Star Wars Is Just MakeBelieve… Right?
by cyberelf
Summary: Amelia is just your average girl who is trying to lead a normal life. Sure she's a nerd, but she's pretty average overall. But she’s not normal. The most bizarre things imaginable are about to come true, and an unspeakable evil accompanies it.
1. Rush Hour Mayhem

Star Wars Is Just Make-Believe… Right?

**Chapter 1**

**Rush Hour Mayhem**

A squadron of fighters zoomed low over my head. They fired their blasters at the mob of people below the cliff on which I stood. I couldn't hear their screams, but I imagined them all screaming in terror as they watched mass numbers of their fellows perish at the hands of my fighter pilots.

I looked at the palace behind me. There were no signs of life inside. It was perfectly still and silent, like a haunted house long abandoned. I looked back at the people below the cliff. Despite their heavy losses, they continued to advance steadily toward the rock face. I looked from the palace to the mob and back again, trying to figure out what to do.

I turned around again and saw a graying man in military uniform running up to me. He stopped a few feet in front of me, and panting, managed to say, "my Lady, there are too many of them. The front lines have been overwhelmed, and I fear that it is only a matter of time before the fortress falls."

"The fortress will not fall," I said darkly. "We will not allow it."

"But my Lady, there are so many of them-"

"That matters not," I snapped. "We will fight them, to the death if need be. Now get back into battle!"

"Yes, my Lady," The officer said reluctantly. He bowed and ran off. I turned toward the approaching mob again. It looked like it would indeed come to death…

I took off my cloak and tossed it aside. I took my lightsaber off my belt and walked over to a landspeeder parked nearby. I hopped on, and immediately it took off down the edge of the cliff. As I approached the mayhem at the bottom, I felt the fury and excitement of battle rush through me. I drew my lightsaber and prepared to strike. The blade was red.

As I charged into battle, a female voice from somewhere far away yelled "AMELIA! IT'S TIME TO GET UP, ALREADY!"

My eyes snapped open, bringing me back to reality. I was back in my bedroom, sprawled out across my bed. My alarm clock on my bedside table was buzzing loudly, but obviously not loudly enough to bring me out of the awesome Star Wars dream I was having. I groaned loudly, wishing that I could go back to the Star Wars world that I loved so much.

I reached over to push the snooze button, and gasped when I saw that it was almost 7:30. I kicked the covers off of me and leapt out of bed. "Shit!" I yelled, running toward the bathroom across the hall. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier, Mom?"

"It's not my job to get you up every morning!" Mom snapped from her room further down the hall. "You're sixteen years old! You should be able to get yourself up! What are you going to do when you have to go to work early in the morning, and I'm not around to make sure you get up on time?"

I emerged from the bathroom, holding my hairbrush and looking annoyed. "Oh stop it, will you?" I grumbled, running into my room. I closed the door and threw off my Darth Vader PJs. I brushed my short red hair with one hand as I pulled my sports bra over my head with my other hand. I opened my dresser drawers and pulled out the first shirt and pair of jeans that I touched. I hastily put them on while I finished brushing my knotted hair.

I took a moment to examine myself in the mirror before leaving my bedroom. I was wearing a long, black T-shit and a pair of dark blue jeans. My hair was flat and lifeless as usual, but I didn't care. I now had fifteen minutes to get to the high school on the other side of town.

I grabbed my book bag that lay next to my desk on the side of my room opposite the bed. I quickly checked to make sure I had everything packed before storming out of my room.

"Bye Mom!" I said irritably as I stormed out of the house without bothering to grab something for breakfast.

I hopped on my bike and sped down the driveway and down the street. I lived with my single mother in a little house in a quiet suburban neighborhood in my hometown. I passed by my eighty-year-old neighbor, who was walking his ancient pug as usual. I waved as I passed, but he didn't wave back, which was typical. He always a jerk to everyone in the neighborhood, especially to those inhabitants who were under the age of fifty.

I turned off my street and passed a few more houses. In the driveway of one of the homes was Mr. Ilgis dressed in his dark blue suit. He was unlocking his Mercedes, and preparing for his commute to work. Next door, the Greek woman fed the chickens that lived in a coop in her front yard. She smiled pleasantly as I passed, and I nodded politely. On the other side of the street, two small girls with pink backpacks ran down their driveway and headed toward the bus stop on the corner.

I turned the corner and was immediately met with a very busy road. It was completely clogged with the usual commuter traffic, but the bike lane was completely clear. My hometown was a small town when I was born, but grew significantly in size as I grew up. It doubled in size as soon as some big corporation decided to make the town the location for its headquarters. As soon as that happened, a giant skyscraper popped up in the middle of downtown, and suddenly everyone in the area decided to move into the city. After that, it seemed like everyone worked in that steel and glass monstrosity.

Those who didn't go to work for the corporation worked in either the department stores or one of the million and one law firms that lined either side of Jay and Elm Street. Those students at Central High School who didn't want to be a store clerk, a lawyer, or a corporate desk zombie were forced to leave town and seek work elsewhere. The town contained a technical institute, a law school, and a larger four-year college, but those students who sought a University or a college with an actual campus were also forced to leave.

My town was fairly large, but was in no way considered to be a big city. It had an absurd amount of commuter traffic for its size. The traffic was always so bad that it was often easier and faster to take a bike or a scooter to work or school. As I peddled my ass off, trying to make it to school on time, I found myself very glad that I wasn't in one of those cars or school buses caught in the standstill traffic jam.

I passed by the entrance to the freeway that cut the town in half. I looked over at the entrance ramp and saw that part of the traffic jam spilled over onto the highway. I came across a few more people in the bike lane as I approached downtown. Luckily, they stayed to the right, so I was able to zoom by them on the left in my mad rush to get to school.

Downtown was the most interesting part of the town. It was extremely large, and consisted of Main Street and about twenty one-way side streets on either side of it. I cruised down Main Street, and the traffic on the main road, the bike lane, and the pedestrian sidewalk increased significantly. I passed by the single, colossal skyscraper that was the sole component of the town's skyline. There were mobs of people walking in and out of the glass giant's revolving doors, and some of the people on bikes got out of the bike lane and headed toward the skyscraper's entrance. The traffic jam spilled into the entrance of the corporation's parking garage next to the skyscraper, and I had to squeeze in between two cars as I passed by.

In addition to the skyscraper, downtown contained a three-floor bookstore, one of many small shopping malls scattered throughout the town, a fast-food joint, three cafes, a large bakery and patisserie, various banks, the law school, a theater and opera house, and a car dealership that I was convinced was run by an ex-mobster.

On the side streets, one could find a multitude of small business and unique little shops. There were multiple mom-and-pop computer stores, an art studio, two baby shops, a bridal boutique, several sandwich and deli shops, two hole-in-the-wall pizza joints, about a hundred bars, a farmer's market, a small jewelry store that looked run-down and seedy, a bagelry, a drug store and pharmacy, a psychic studio, a small grocery store that sold lots of exotic and foreign foods found nowhere else in town, a store that sold nothing but vintage records, and pretty much every other store one would desire to visit. There was even a comic book and collectibles store that I visited every week. That was the place where I got almost everything I liked; I was able to get manga, anime DVDs not available in the US, and merchandise from my favorite movies and anime. Most importantly, that shop was the place where I got all of my Star Wars merchandise and comic books. I shopped there so much that I got to know the storeowner personally, and he made an effort to get anything I requested in stock. That store was a nerd and geek's dream, and was my personal heaven.

I passed by the entrance of another one-way street. I looked up and saw the street sign. When I saw that I was passing by Druin Street, I immediately looked down and peddled faster. Druin Street was the worst section of downtown. On that street, every pervert and sleaze alive could find everything his sick heart desired. That one side street contained multiple nightclubs, strip bars, and porn shops. It was also the place that most of the prostitutes decided to infest with their presence during the evening hours.

All in all, downtown was the coolest and most dynamic part of town. Almost everything could be found there, and it was the most popular hangout spot for the town's teenagers. There was always something to do there, and I loved downtown to death.

Oh, and I must not forget to mention that there was a coffee shop on every single corner of every single street in downtown, including Druin Street.

I cut down one of the side streets and found myself picking up speed as I peddled down a hill. I looked at my watch and saw that I had five more minutes to go. I peddled as fast as I could. There was still a slight chance that I would make it on time. I yelled at some people walking on the side of the road to get out of the way as I sped past. They jumped to the side, yelled obscenities at me, and a few gave me the finger. I returned the gesture without a second thought.

Eventually, the school's driveway came into view. I sighed in relief as I sped up it, thankful that I was probably going to make it on time.

There was no one outside the building. The bell was about to ring any minute, and everyone had no doubt gone inside to wait inside the classrooms for it. I leapt off my bike and quickly locked it up on one of the bike racks. I ran with all speed through the front doors and toward my math classroom on the second floor. I ascended the stairs, and as I ran down the hall, I heard the bell ring. I swore loudly and continued running. I had worked so hard to get to class on time. I had even skipped breakfast, which I would regret halfway through first period, in the hopes that I would be able to make it. Now, all of that had been for nothing, because I was late for Mrs. Duble's Algebra class yet again. Hopefully she wouldn't mind me being a few seconds late for class.

I stopped outside of room 224, paused, and opened the door. Mrs. Duble was sitting at her desk by the door taking attendance. She looked up at me and gave me an annoyed look that could slice me in two.

"Good morning," I said timidly. I smiled nervously and headed for my desk.

Before I could get far, Mrs. Duble snapped, "Amelia MacIntosh, you're late again!"

"I'm really sorry!" I pleaded. "But I didn't hear my alarm go off, and I got out late, but I'm only late by a few seconds, and-"

"Sit down," Mrs. Duble ordered, glaring at me over the top of her half-oval reading glasses.

"Yes ma'am," I said and ran to my seat at the back of the room.

Mrs. Duble continued with her attendance as I took my math stuff out of my bag. I looked at the people around me. On my right, with her light brown hair pulled back into a loose bun, was a very annoyed-looking Katherine. I smiled nervously at my friend, and she shook her head in disbelief. Next to her was my skinny, fair-haired friend Lita. Her pimpled face was contorted in an expression that told me she was suppressing a laugh. I smiled at her and almost laughed myself. On my left was another friend of mine named Caitlyn. She had short, dark blonde hair, and wore a Nightmare Before Christmas T-shirt. She mouthed a "nice going" at me and went back to trying to finish her math homework, which lie nowhere near complete on the desk in front of her.

I opened my math folder, and to my relief, found that I had not only finished my homework for a change, but had also packed it in my bag the night before. I swelled with pride. If I had not been late for class, I would have felt extremely responsible for once. I wasn't a very responsible person. I never cleaned my room unless forced to by my mother, I had a habit of not doing homework in its entirety if I did it at all, and I often played video games or watched TV instead of studying. My grades were not that good as a result. I got mostly C's and D's, maybe the occasional B, and I hadn't received an A since junior high.

The teacher left her desk and started checking each student's homework. Next to me, Caitlyn let out a small cry of despair as she scribbled rapidly in her notebook. She was no doubt writing complete bull shit in an attempt to make it look like she did something last night, and I doubted that Mrs. Duble would accept it for credit.

While we waited for the teacher to come our way, Katherine nudged my foot. "Hey Lia," she said to me, "look who's missing today."

I looked around quizzically. I noticed an empty desk on the other side of the room and almost gasped out loud.

"Emily's _absent_?" I asked in awe. Katherine laughed and shook her head in disbelief. "Wow!" I continued. "She's _never_ absent! I don't think she's ever missed a day of class since I've known her!"

"This is certainly a surprise," Katherine replied.

"She must have died or something," I said sarcastically, "only death would keep her from coming to school!"

"I know," Lita chimed in, "she's the most serious and dedicated student I know! She even came to school last year when she came down with bronchitis."

"I remember that," said Katherine. "I wonder what's up with her? This is so weird!"

I nodded in agreement. Next to me, Caitlyn threw down her pencil in disgust and put her head on her desk. "Good enough," I heard her mumble to herself. I chuckled and leaned back in my seat.

Mrs. Duble made her way over to my desk. "Do you at least have your homework for once, Amelia?" she asked in annoyance.

"I certainly do!" I said, beaming. Mrs. Duble's eyes widened in shock, and she looked over my homework. She sighed heavily and looked at me over her glasses. "You did your homework all right," she said, "but all the answers are wrong, and I have no idea what you were thinking when you were doing these problems." My smile faded. "You had absolutely no clue what you were doing, did you?" she asked.

"Um," I said, "well, not quite 'absolutely no clue', um." I paused and sighed. "Hey," I continued, "I at least tried, didn't I? I even attempted every problem in the assignment!"

"That you did," Mrs. Duble sighed, making a mark in her grade book, "and that's good enough for homework credit. But please, Amelia, see me after school one day. You need extra help, and I am more than willing to provide it if you want it. If you fall much further behind, I'm afraid you won't be able to catch up."

Without another word, she moved on to the boy in front of me. I collapsed on my desk. My little bubble of pride had officially burst. What she had said was of no surprise to me. I was beyond terrible at math. I was a right-brained type of person, and never did well with numbers, rigid rules, and calculations. Getting extra help would do nothing. She could explain the subjects to me a hundred times, and I would still never understand them. My friend Emily had tried to help me with math once, but gave up when she realized that there was just no helping me understand something that I was obviously incapable of understanding.

"Caitlyn," Mrs. Duble said in disgust next to me, "you divided by zero three times, said that the area of a triangle was base times height, and I don't know where in the world you came up with these random decimals for answers." She gave Caitlyn an annoyed look over the top of her glasses, and Caitlyn laughed nervously. "Did you even attempt this, or did you just write random numbers to make it look like you did?"

Caitlyn didn't answer, and Mrs. Duble scribbled something in her grade book and moved on. Caitlyn mouthed a "whatever, dude" to herself and started doodling in her notebook. I laughed slightly and sat up.

A shudder suddenly crept up my spine, and it felt like there was someone behind me. I spun around, but saw only the cabinets on the back wall. Dismissing the strange shudder as nothing, I turned around and prepared for another long, boring Algebra class.

**Disclaimer:** Star Wars and all it's characters belong to George Lucas. I don't own them. The only things I own are the OC's, the setting, and the events not involving Star Wars. The OC's are in no way directly based on real people. The town and its inhabitants are completely imaginary.


	2. A Hot Irish Temper

**Chapter 2**

**A Hot Irish Temper**

log3(x)4. Solve for x.

I buried my face in my arms and collapsed onto the desk. I had no clue what Mrs. Duble was talking about, I didn't know what any of the symbols she was writing on the board meant, and I was so lost that I didn't think it was possible to catch up to everyone else. To my left, Caitlyn was doodling in her notebook and sighing heavily. She was obviously in the same situation as me.

Seriously, Mrs. Duble could have been writing in Sanskrit on the chalkboard, and I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between it and the math symbols.

"Lia!" Katherine hissed, kicking my foot. "Pay attention! Will you at least _try_ to learn this stuff?"

I grumbled under my breath and sat up. Looking at the scribbles on the board made me go cross-eyed, so I let my eyes wander around the room instead. Further up Caitlyn's row, the class clown of the class, Lee, was sound asleep on his desk. Further to my right, a guy in a Junior Varsity football jacket was pouring over a Chemistry textbook, without paying the slightest bit of attention to Mrs. Duble. To his right, a girl with long, brown hair was staring into empty space. Through her curtain of hair, I caught a glimpse of the white wire of an iPod earbud.

My gaze drifted over to the clock on the wall by the door. I almost leapt with joy when I saw that there were only ten minutes left of class. I looked back at the board and pretended to pay attention. Mrs. Duble was droning on about something to do with exponents, but I didn't care anymore. I was hopeless in math, and all I cared about at that moment was getting out of the class.

When the clock said that there were only five minutes left of class, the door opened with a soft click. Mrs. Duble went silent and looked over at the door, and every eye in the class fell on the opening door.

A girl with long, black hair, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes entered the classroom. Katherine, Lita, Caitlyn, and I started laughing, and a few others joined in.

"Nice timing, Emily!" one of the guys said to her.

"Ya," the girl with the headphones called, "class is like, over!"

Emily ignored them and handed her tardy slip to Mrs. Duble. She then walked over to her seat on the far left side of the room and took her math folder out of her bag. Mrs. Duble proceeded to write the homework on the chalkboard. I almost swore out loud when I saw that the assignment was thirty more problems like the ones we had done in class that I hadn't bothered to try to learn.

Everyone packed up, and Mrs. Duble checked Emily's homework just as the bell to end class rang. Now that class was officially over, my three friends and I burst out laughing.

"Emily," Caitlyn said as she walked by, "I am really proud of you!"

"That was brilliant!" Lita added.

Chuckling, I followed them out of the classroom and headed to my locker on the first floor. The principal's secretary made an announcement over the intercom, but no one was able to understand her over the ridiculously loud chatter. I integrated myself into the mass of people and waddled down the stairs. I had to shove my way out of the crowd to get off at the ground floor, and I had to squeeze in between people and backpacks on either side of the hallway to get to my locker. I eventually made it, and began to dial my combination. When I opened my locker door, something fell off the top shelf and landed on my shoulder. Swearing, I picked it up and shoved it back in my locker.

My locker was the ultimate in disorganization. Everything was randomly thrown in there, and every time I opened the door, something fell out. It was permanently booby-trapped, and it was a miracle that I could find anything in there at all.

All of my schoolbooks were on the floor of the locker. Some library books and multiple sets of old gym cloths mingled in a tangled mess on the top shelf. Remnants of unfinished bags of chips and sandwiches were smushed together in the corners of the top and bottom shelves. My sports duffle bag and lacrosse stick were shoved in the back of the locker, along with a hooded sweatshirt that I kept forgetting to bring home. When I saw my lacrosse stick, I was struck with a pang of disappointment. I had lacrosse practice after school that day for two hours. I moaned and swore. The last thing I wanted to do that afternoon was go to lacrosse practice, otherwise known by the team members as "hell on earth."

I replaced my math books with my English folder in my bag and slammed my locker door shut before more stuff fell on my head. The crowd in the halls had dissipated slightly, which told me that the break in between classes was half over. I hurried out the front doors and toward the second building. The sun shone brilliantly, and a cool, fall wind whipped in between the two school buildings. Around me, other students were hurrying from one building to another, and a janitor roamed around the courtyard between the buildings and picked up fallen leaves and trash.

I entered the other building and hurried up the stairs to my English class on the fourth floor. The crowd in the halls was almost gone, and I figured I had only two minutes left to get to class. I skipped every other step, and soon I arrived at my English classroom. Inside, the desks were arranged in two semicircles around the white board. At the front of the room, the teacher, dressed in a broomstick skirt, a knitted wool tank top, and wearing no shoes, fumbled through her lecture notes.

As I took my assigned seat in the front semicircle, the bell to begin class rang. The students who were visiting other people's desks returned to their seats, and everyone chatted with each other as they waited for the teacher to begin class.

I hated my seat in English class. To my right was the light haired, dark-eyed, olive-skinned Dylan. He and I despised each other, and we always got into an argument about something during every class. Directly behind us was a Korean girl named Eun Sun, who always acted as our moderator and broke up our fights when they got out of hand. She was the sole reason Dylan and I never strangled each other.

The person to my left wasn't much better than Dylan. Her name was Aurora, and she was the perkiest, most snobbish and obnoxious preppie to ever live. This unspeakable evil was a size zero, and always wore push-up bras and extremely tight, low-cut shirts to make her chest look much bigger than it really was. She had perky, wavy blonde hair, perfect bodily curves, and she looked like an overgrown Barbie Doll. Her face was glued into a sickeningly fake smile, and her nose was tiny and pointy. It was obvious that her favorite color was pink, because it was one of the few colors she ever wore. Today, she had on a tight, V-necked white T-shirt, a bright pink miniskirt that was much shorter than the school allowed, and pink, stiletto heels. Around her neck was a lace scarf that served no other purpose than to look like a pink leash.

On her head was a red beret. Last year, she went through a cultural identity crisis and went to France to discover her roots. She spoke with a French accent ever since she got back. She claimed that the accent was something she naturally picked up in France, but I never believed that for a second. To me, she was nothing more than an arrogant, obnoxious, show-off that thought that she was better than everyone else because she could fake a French accent.

Every aspect of dear Aurora made me want to throw up. I couldn't even glance to my left, because every time I did, I was blinded by amount of bright pink she always wore. She seemed to be perfect in every way; she was hot, thin, got grades good enough for the honor roll, and was involved in practically every club and sport in school. However, she was anything but perfect. Behind that sickening curtain of sweetness dwelled a horrible, backstabbing bitch. Dear Aurora thought that everyone was beneath her, and she made sure that her opinion of herself was well known. She was mean to everyone, especially the "geeks" and "freaks" like my friends and I. She obviously liked sitting next to me as much as I liked sitting next to her, because every time we spoke, she either called me fat, stupid, ugly, or a freak. And every time she insulted me, she always did it with a pearly-white smile. Honestly, the woman made me sick.

So for an hour and a half, I was sandwiched between Dylan the argumentative moron and the Pink Nightmare. On the other side of the circle, my best friend Emily had the privilege of only having to sit next to one person. I longed to be over there with her. I waved at her, but she was spacing out and didn't notice me.

That was extremely odd. Emily never spaced out. She was always very attentive and alert during class. She was acting very odd this day, and I decided to ask her what was wrong when I saw her at lunch later in the day.

-----

English was a total nightmare. The teacher decided to do another oral reading lesson with the class. She claimed that the students in recent years were incapable of reading out loud, and therefore needed lessons on it. The oral reading lessons were demeaning and pointless, and most people dozed off during them.

During the lessons, each person had to read three paragraphs from any book they chose from the school library. While each person read, everyone else dozed off. It was a great time to take a nap, complete homework for other classes, doodle in a notebook, or chat quietly with other people.

While people were reading, Dylan and I got into another argument. It all started when halfway through class, he saw the Star Wars novel on my desk and asked "is _that_ the book you're going to be reading from?" I glared at him and asked what was wrong with it, and he complained that Star Wars and science fiction were dumb and that I shouldn't rot my brain on such crap. I bluntly replied that the works of science fiction, including Star Wars, were some of the most intelligent and imaginative works of fiction in existence, and that if he only gave it a chance, he would see the benefits of reading something intelligent. I said that last bit as I pointed to the dime-novel Western sitting on his desk. We went back and forth and argued over what was good writing and what wasn't. Eun Sun tried to get us to stop, but failed for the first time all semester. After five minutes, we started raising our voices, until finally the teacher got annoyed and yelled at us to stop being so disrespectful to our classmates. We shut up immediately, but I was still fuming mad. Next to me, Aurora rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue in disgust. I clenched my fists under the desk. I had had enough of the both of them, and was suddenly in desperate need of a walk.

I scribbled my name and the time on the classroom sign-out sheet and stormed off to the bathroom down the hall. The walking was letting off steam, but I was still furious when I got to the bathroom. I stormed in, checked to be sure no one else was present, and kicked the rubber guard at the base of the tile wall.

"Stupid, fucking, ignorant, brainless-" I cursed quietly as I kicked the wall. I was wearing a pair of heavy black boots, so the impact didn't hurt in the least.

When I let off a sufficient amount of steam, I stopped abusing the rubber guard and went over to one of the sinks. I gripped the sink's rim and looked at my reflection in the mirror. My freckled face was bright red, and I had a murderous look in my eyes. I panted heavily, and rinsed my face in the sink to try and calm down.

I had always been a hothead. I had a hot Irish temper that I was never afraid to let loose, and when I was provoked to anger, I got furious. No one wanted to get in my way when I was on an angry rampage.

I dried my face and pulled back my shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. I checked myself in the mirror again. My face was its usual pale color, and I looked and felt calm enough to go back to class. Straightening my T-shirt, I left the bathroom.

As I left the bathroom, I heard voices coming from the staircase across the hall. I would have normally passed by without a glance, but I thought I heard the voice of Emily. I had not seen her leave class, but then again, I hadn't been paying attention to anyone but Dylan for a while. Curious, I headed toward the staircase.

I leaned over the railing and looked down. The voices were coming from one of the floors below, and were echoing up the spiral stairs. Quietly, I descended the stairs.

When I got to the third floor, I saw the distinct hip-length black hair of Emily a short distance down the hall. She had her back to me, and appeared to be talking to someone in front of her whom I could not see. I crept as close as I dared and tried to listen to what they were saying. Emily never left in the middle class, and she always scolded those (including myself) who left class to meet with other people in the hallways. Her behavior was completely unusual, and I was dying to know what caused this sudden and dramatic change.

"You have felt it?" I heard a male voice ask.

"Yes," Emily replied, "I have felt it. I fear the first level of quarantine has been breached. She may be vulnerable now."

"And we were so careful," the male sighed, "alert the others, and I will alert the Masters."

"Request back-up," said Emily, "we are probably going to need it if what I suspect has happened is coming to pass."

"I will," the male replied, "but you need to keep a constant eye on her, and when you can't be with her, leave her in the care of someone you trust." He paused, and for some reason, I felt a twinge of panic. "I feel someone nearby," he replied. "Someone is listening to us."

I swore under my breath and ran up the stairs as quietly as I could. I ran back into the fourth floor girl's bathroom and caught my breath. I glanced down the stairs and saw that no one had followed. Relieved, I leaned against the wall and tried to figure out what had just happened. A million questions buzzed through my mind. Who was Emily talking to? What were they talking about? What quarantine was breached? Who were they alerting? Who was vulnerable? Who was being watched? What was going on?

That was it. I was going to find out what was going on with Emily whether she wanted to talk about it or not.


	3. Janitor's Closet

**Chapter 3**

**Janitor's Closet**

After what seemed like all day, the bell to end English finally rang, signaling the beginning of lunch for me. My stomach had been rumbling loudly all through the second half of English, causing Aurora to wrinkle her pointed nose in revulsion. By the time the bell rang, I was ready to faint from hunger.

I ran to the cafeteria at full speed, hoping that I would get there early enough to avoid the lines at the cashier. Luckily, I got there quickly enough to only be caught in a small line.

I grabbed everything my five dollars could buy and checked out. By the time I left the food line, the seating area was almost completely full of people. I headed to my usual seat at the back of the cafeteria, hoping that my friends had saved me a seat.

The people in the cafeteria tended to cluster themselves by stereotype. All the geeks, nerds, Goths, and other freaks like myself sat at the back of the cafeteria furthest from the food line. The male and female jocks all sat at the front of the cafeteria nearest to the food. The middle was split into three groups. The middle section nearest the jocks consisted of the genius people who got straight A's. They were brilliant enough to go to Ivy League schools and become scientists, lawyers, doctors, government officials, and brilliant academic minds. In the middle section nearest the freaks dwelled the hippie types: the students who always ate organic foods, wore sandals all year round, wore tie-dye, listened to 60's music, and were obsessed with world peace and love. Sandwiched between the hippies and the geniuses were the preppies. Most of them were girls just like Aurora, and they comprised the largest group of people in the cafeteria. They ate almost nothing, did their hair and makeup as they ate, and giggled and gossiped with each other. When one passed by that section of the cafeteria, one felt trapped in a bubble of bright colors, hair spray, and malicious rumors.

Scattered throughout the cafeteria was everyone else. Among the different tables and stereotypes one could find sprinklings of normal people, the Army ROTC, the band geeks and other musicians, and the foreign students.

When I reached my usual table at the back of the cafeteria, I found that there were two free seats. My friends Katherine, Lita, Caitlyn, Arleen, Kristen, Liz, Ann, Janet, and Taylor were already seated at the table. I sat down in one of the vacant seats and immediately began to devour the sandwich I had bought. My friends gaped at me as they watched me eat.

"Holy shit, woman!" Katherine cried in awe.

"Watch your fingers, everyone!" Arleen warned. "I don't think Lia ate breakfast this morning."

Everyone laughed, and I ignored them and continued to eat. I felt much better when I finished my sandwich, and my eating pace slowed significantly afterward. Across from me, Liz was pounding her drumsticks on the table. Out of all my friends, Liz was the strangest. She had artificially black hair that wasn't even long enough to tie back into a ponytail. She was completely obsessed with her hair, and always had it either spiked or styled in a mohawk. Today's style was a mohawk. She never left the house without her hair gel, drum sticks, and fingerless leather gloves. Today, she had on a black trench coat, a bright green tank top, black pants, and combat boots. She was extremely nice, but her attire made her look intimidating and outright bizarre. She was also a proud bisexual who was not shy about gawking and whistling at girls.

To her left was Ann, the most normal person at the table. She wore normal clothes, got average grades, and was very quiet and shy. Next to her was Lita, who looked normal on the outside, but in reality was overly obsessed with mountain biking and Orlando Bloom. Next to her was Arleen, a hardcore anime fan who loved lace and shiny objects.

To Liz's right was Caitlyn, who had her laptop open in front of her. Caitlyn got grades as poor as mine because she was lazy. Art was her one strong subject, and she had ambitions to become a graphic artist. Across from Caitlyn was Kristen, a bookworm who read all during lunch and always had a different type of soup in her thermos. To Kristen's right was Taylor, an African-American girl who was a first chair clarinet player and a brilliant songwriter. She was also a Lesbian, a dedicated gay rights activist, and the most politically savvy person among us. Between Taylor and I was a vacant seat. To my right was Katherine. Katherine loved movies and was a talented actress and singer. She always got major roles in the school plays, and dreamt of one day becoming a Broadway actress. Sitting on a chair at the end of the rectangular table was Janet, a dedicated video gamer who still clung to her intense love of Pokemon.

"Hey Lia," said Caitlyn, "where's Emily?"

"I have no idea," I replied in between mouthfuls of potato chips.

"Isn't she in your English class?" Ann asked.

"Yeah," I said, "but she left in the middle of class, and I haven't seen her since."

Several of my friends gasped, Liz stopped drumming on the table, Kristen looked up from her book, and everyone's jaws dropped. I put down my potato chips and felt awkward. I wished someone would say something.

"She did _what_?" Katherine cried.

"She left in the middle of class," I repeated. I paused and pondered whether or not to tell them what I had seen and heard. I had been eavesdropping on a private conversation, and if Emily found out that I had been spying on her, she would be furious. I decided to keep what I had heard to myself. "I don't know where she went," I continued.

"First she's late for class, which is unheard of," Caitlyn replied, "then she left in the middle of class, which is also unheard of, and now she's late for lunch. This is so unlike her!"

"I wonder what's up," said Taylor.

"You can ask her that right now," Liz replied, "cause here she comes."

She pointed to the front of the cafeteria, and we all looked in the direction she was pointing. Sure enough, Emily was hurrying toward our table, looking flustered and exhausted.

"Emmy!" Katherine cried, waving at her. "We saved you a seat!"

Emily sat down, thanked us, and dug her lunch out of her bag. She ate quickly and avoided all eye contact with us. We looked at each other quizzically, trying to figure out what we should say.

"So, Emmy," said Katherine, "we're all very curious to know why you were late for class for the first time in your life this morning."

"I had other things to do," Emily replied bluntly.

Caitlyn sniggered. "You were skipping class, weren't you?" she said, winking and smirking slyly.

"I was doing no such thing!" Emily said in horror.

"C'mon Emily," Caitlyn insisted, "just admit it! You were skipping class!"

"I was not!" Emily retaliated.

"Though coming in at the last minute kind of defeats the purpose of skipping," Lita said, "but it was still a skip in essence."

"Everyone here has skipped class at least once," Caitlyn replied, and we all nodded. "It was only a matter of time before our influence rubbed off on you. You don't have to be afraid to tell us, we all understand."

"I wonder what she was doing," Janet wondered.

"I think she was spending some quality time with a guy," Liz suggested, raising her eyebrows and smiling. "It would be about time!" she continued. A few of us laughed and a few winked at Emily.

"I was not skipping class, so drop it!" Emily snapped, glaring fiercely at Caitlyn. Everyone's eyes widened, and Caitlyn immediately shut up. "And I was not off alone with some guy, if you must know."

"What were you doing then?" I asked. Even though Emily's sudden harshness frightened everyone else, it did not seem to bother me.

Emily ignored me and continued eating. Everyone ate in silence for a few moments, until Arleen finally had the courage to speak.

"In all seriousness," said Arleen, "we're worried about you. You have been acting very strange today. You were insanely late for class this morning, which has never happened in all the years we've known you."

"And then you left in the middle of English class, which is completely unheard of for you," Taylor replied.

Emily looked at her sharply. "How did you know that I left English early?" she barked. Frightened, Taylor squeaked, "Lia told me."

Emily spun around and glared at me. "How did you know?" she spat.

"I saw you leave," I lied. I hoped she hadn't figured out that I was the one listening in on her conversation. However, my answer seemed to satisfy her enough, and she continued eating without another word.

"Now what is wrong with you today?" I asked after a moment of silence.

"There's nothing wrong," said Emily.

"Don't lie to us," I replied, "just your attitude alone tells me that there's something wrong. You're yelling and glaring at your own friends, you're frightening us, and you're being vague. You're also being very irritable, and you seem distracted." Emily ignored me, and I felt my temper bubbling inside me again. "We know something's not right with you, Emmy," I continued, "now tell us what the hell is going on!"

"There is nothing wrong," Emily said, staring intensely into my eyes. For a second, I felt like believing her, but after a moment of confusion, I shook my head.

"Fine," I said, "if you insist on lying to your friends, be that way."

A look of shock crossed Emily's face, and I raised an eyebrow at her. She shrugged and continued eating.

Just then, an African-American girl came up from behind Liz. She waved, and we said hello to her.

"Hi Amara," Taylor said to the girl.

"Hey wazzup?" Amara asked, holding out her hand. Liz, Caitlyn, and Lita each gave her a low five. She smiled at all of us, and when she saw Emily, she said, "hey Em, I heard that you almost didn't make it to class this morning. That's surprising! Is it true?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Word certainly travels fast," she grumbled.

"Jeez," Amara said, folding her arms, "what's up with you?"

"She's a little grumpy," Kristen said, without looking up from her book.

"I guess so," Amara replied, "oh well, I guess even sweet little Emily has to have her bad days once in a while, huh?"

Emily looked annoyed, and Amara shut up.

We started talking about other things, but Emily never joined in on the conversation. She stared into empty space as she ate, and everyone at the table avoided speaking to her out of fear of making her mad again.

Just then, a boy in a polo shirt and a pair of jeans approached our table. He waved, ran over, and stood next to Amara. "Hello, ladies!" he said in a high-pitched voice. He had a gigantic smile on his face.

"Gary!" Liz cried, leaping up and throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, and Lita, Katherine, and Taylor leapt up to give him a hug as well.

"Yo," Amara said to him, "wazzup?"

"Oh not much," Gary replied, leaning on the table and continuing to smile.

"Something's up," Kristen replied, "why are you so happy?"

Gary giggled and put his fingers to his mouth. "It just so happens," Gary replied, "that I have a date this weekend!"

We all cried out in girlish joy, and Liz patted him on the back. Gary's smile widened even more, and he put his fingers to his mouth again.

Gary was a gay guy who was fresh out of the closet when I met him earlier that month. He had been struggling all semester to find another homosexual in the overwhelmingly straight male student population. Taylor was the only one who could fully empathize with him, but we all felt sorry for him nonetheless. News of a date made all of us happy for him.

"So," Liz said, raising her eyebrows and beaming, "who's the lucky boy?"

"His name is Robert Billings," Gary replied, blushing.

Those who recognized the name gasped. I didn't know whom he was talking about, so I just continued listening.

"No way!" Caitlyn cried. "Robert Billings is _gay_? I had no idea!"

"Most people don't," said Gary, "he just recently came out too. I have the privilege of being his first date." He blushed again, and a few of the girls squealed in delight. "He is so cute," Gary continued, dropping his voice lower, "he has the sweetest smile, his laugh is like music, and he twirls his hair in his fingers when he's nervous."

"Aw!" Arleen giggled.

"If he wasn't gay, I'd eat him alive," Liz replied, licking her lips.

"Nuh uh!" Gary said, shaking his index finger at her. "He's all mine!"

"Well, I wish you two the best of luck," Taylor replied.

"Thanks! So do I!" Gary said, blushing and beaming. He looked over at Emily, who was staring into empty space, and was the only one not sharing Gary's happiness. Gary waved at her, and Emily snapped out of it.

"Hello," Gary said, "are you awake? You're not attentive like usual. What's up?"

Emily wailed in anger and leapt out of her seat. "Why is everyone assuming that something's wrong with me? There is absolutely nothing strange going on!" She left the lunch table and stormed off toward the cafeteria exit without another word. Everyone watched her with confused expressions.

"What's eating her?" Gary asked. "It was just a question."

"She's been like that all day," Katherine replied.

"Maybe someone should go talk to her," Arleen offered.

"Don't look at me," said Janet, "I'm too scared to go near her."

"Why don't you go talk to her, Lia?" Katherine offered. I nearly choked on my water.

"Why me?" I asked. "She's mad at me too, you know."

"Yeah, but she's your best friend," Ann replied.

"You should go and give her a little pep-talk," said Amara, "maybe she'll open up to you."

"Yeah," Taylor replied, "maybe she's uncomfortable around all of us."

"That would be understandable," Lita said, glancing at Liz. Liz looked annoyed and punched Lita's arm.

"All right, all right," I said, "I'll go talk to her. I'll see you guys later."

I got up, threw my book bag on my back, and left the cafeteria. I looked up and down each side of the hallway. I caught a brief glimpse of Emily climbing the staircase on the far left side of the hall. I hurried after her, hoping that I could catch up to her.

She jogged up the stairs, as if in a rush to get to wherever she was going. I kept my distance, suddenly curious as to where she was going in such a big hurry. Our lunch period didn't end for another ten minutes, and class didn't start for another fifteen. Perhaps, I thought, following Emily for a while would give me a clue as to what was going on.

She got off at the sixth and topmost floor, and I followed close behind. She continued down the hall for a ways, and then suddenly stopped. Panicking, I hid behind a nearby trashcan. Emily turned around, shrugged, and walked on. I followed.

We walked down the hall, and I periodically hid behind trashcans along the way. Emily turned the corner and walked down a narrow side hallway. She stopped in front of a small, windowless door, and I quickly ducked behind a self-standing whiteboard. I looked closely at the door and realized that it was the door to the sixth floor janitor's closet. What could Emily possibly be doing with a janitor's closet?

She placed her hand on the doorknob, and I heard the door unlock with a soft click. I saw Emily enter the dark closet and disappear from view. I crept to the trashcan closest to the door and hid behind it. It was so dark in the closet that I could barely see inside. From the hallway lights, I caught a glimpse of Emily, with her back to me, and the outlines of several other people. I squinted, convinced that I must have been seeing things. That closet was barely big enough to hold one person, let alone several. However, there was no mistaking what I saw. There were probably eight people sitting in a half circle, with Emily in the center, all impossibly fitting into the tiny closet.

"We got your message, Emily," a woman with a husky voice said. "We have investigated the breach, and found that he has arrived, and has found a way through the first level of our quarantine."

"He's here?" Emily gasped.

"Yes," the woman replied, "here in this very city."

"Has he found her yet?" Emily asked in a worried tone.

"I'm afraid so," a soft-spoken man said gravely.

"What are we going to do now?" Emily asked, sounding like she was going to cry.

"Keep her close, you must," another male voice said. I jumped, and almost bumped into the trashcan. The voice was identical to Yoda from Star Wars. I was convinced that I was going nuts. There was no way Yoda could be in there. "Stay with her at all times," mysterious male replied, "or else in the care of someone you trust, you must leave her."

"Emily," the woman said, "you must remain calm. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. That is a path to the Dark Side."

I couldn't possibly be hearing them right. What the hell were they talking about? It sounded for a second like they were talking about Star Wars like it was real!

"She knows something's up," said Emily, "how am I going to keep this a secret from her?"

"You must do whatever is necessary," the soft-spoken man replied. "If that includes the mind trick, then you must do it."

"I already tried the mind trick," Emily insisted, "but she resisted it. The Force is really strong with her."

The Force? What the hell?

"Strong she may be with the Force," said the Yoda-like person, "but learned in its ways, she is not."

"A fully-trained Jedi will be able to control her and keep her safe," said the soft-spoken man. "You must try the mind trick again. We will help you."

"But if she is able to control the Force at all," said the woman, "then she is more vulnerable than we feared. In this state, she will easily be tempted by the Dark Side. Emily, you must not let this happen! You must not let her discover her powers or memories, or it could mean the end everything!"

"As you wish, Masters," Emily said, bowing.

"Someone outside this door I sense," the Yoda-like person replied.

I gasped and ran. I was around the corner before anyone came out of the closet, and I ran all the way down the hall and the stairs. I was numb from everything I had just heard. They had been talking about Star Wars as if it were real! I loved Star Wars to death, but I didn't' believe for a second that a shred of it was true. I was fully grounded in reality, and was well aware that Star Wars was just make-believe.

A million more questions raced through my head. Who were those people? Did they honestly think that Star Wars, Jedi, the Dark Side, and the Force were real? Did they honestly think that they could control another's mind or memories? Who were they talking about? Who was vulnerable? What was this "quarantine" and who entered it?

I ran to the first floor and out the doors. I ran by some people sitting in the courtyard eating their lunch. They gave me funny looks, and one called out to me, but I was too distracted to care about them.

I ran through the main entrance doors and stopped outside my locker. Panting, I punched it, and leaned my head against it. Was Emily losing her mind, or was this all some kind of joke? It had to be a joke. There was no other way of explaining it.

I dialed my combination, opened the door, and jumped aside as two books and a pair of gym shorts tumbled out. I shoved them back inside, and began packing my bag for the next class.

Now I knew that something fishy was going on that Emily was not telling me about. I didn't know why I was so bothered by the whole situation, but I was furious that Emily was keeping me, her best friend, in the dark about what was going on. I vowed to get the truth out of her one way or another.


	4. The Scream

**Chapter 4**

**The Scream**

The bell rang to signal the beginning of the second lunch period and the beginning of the next class for my friends and me. Following lunch was the wonderful world of Chemistry with Mr. Godette. Since I was hopeless in math, I was even more hopeless in Chemistry. I was passing the class with a 60 only because Mr. Godette offered plenty of extra credit.

Today we were starting an experiment. Our goal was to determine the exact amount of vitamin C in several different types of juice mixtures using Iodine Titration. I had no idea what any of that meant, and I hoped that my lab partner knew what to do.

As Mr. Godette went over the experiment procedure, my eyes glazed over in confusion and disinterest. While I waited for him to finish talking and turn us loose, the person sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw Katherine tapping me with her pencil.

"Did you talk to her?" Katherine asked.

"Not exactly," I said, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Why not?" Katherine hissed, clearly annoyed.

"Look," I said, "I don't want to talk about it right now." I hadn't decided whether I should tell my friends what I had seen and heard. I figured that if I told them the truth, they would either think I was losing my mind, playing games with them, or becoming so obsessed with Star Wars that I was becoming delusional.

"Well, you'd better have a damn good reason for not talking to her," Katherine said angrily, "because I asked you to talk to her! We're all worried about her, aren't you?"

"Of course I am!" I retaliated.

"Then why didn't you talk to her?" Katherine spat.

"I'll talk about it later," I hissed, turning around and abruptly ending the conversation. Great, now if I decided not to tell everyone what happened in the janitor's closet, I was going to have to concoct a very convincing lie. This day was just getting better and better.

Mr. Godette was almost finished explaining the experiment, and I still barely knew what we were doing. I hoped my lab partner had been listening.

The teacher let us loose and told us to get to work. I went over to one of the cabinets with the rest of the class and took a pair of safety goggles. I put them on. The lenses were so scratched and fogged that I could barely see, and they were too small. Trying to ignore how tight they were, I walked over to my assigned lab bench.

My lab partner, a genius girl of Indian descent named Brittney, was laying out her notes when I walked over. "I knew you weren't listening to the teacher," she said irritably, "so I'll do most of the experiment myself. It's easier. You'll just do some of the simple things."

"Thank you," I said meekly. My lab partner was ten times smarter than I was. She was number five in our class, a science whiz, and was on the fast track to the Ivy League Schools. She intimidated me, and she easily grew annoyed at my incompetence with math and science.

While my lab partner set up the experiment, she charged me with filling the beakers with the correct amount of juice mixtures. I figured that wouldn't be too hard.

I went to the front of the room and stood in line with five others as Mr. Godette passed out the juice samples. Outside the classroom door next to me, and I could hear people walking around. I glanced out into the hall, and saw a guidance counselor and the principal walking by, looking flustered and talking into their walkie-talkies.

"There's no sign of her yet," the guidance counselor told the principal.

"Frank," the principal said into his walkie-talkie, "search the basements and see if you can find a student named Emily Towne."

I gasped. Emily was missing? My heart beat rapidly with worry. Where on earth could she have gone in the fifteen minutes since I saw her in the janitor's closet?

When it was my turn in line, Mr. Godette filled my beakers with juice. I headed back to the lab table and gave the samples to Brittney. She started blending other mixtures for the experiment, but I didn't pay attention to her. I was too distracted with Emily being missing. I was so worried about her.

"Amelia!"

I snapped out of my distracted trance and realized that Brittney had been talking to me.

"Amelia, will you at least contribute in _some_ way?" Brittney snapped. "I don't feel like doing this _entire_ experiment by myself!"

"Okay," I said, trying to be attentive.

She pushed a scale in front of me and put a small bottle of some weird substance on top of it. "Measure .5 g of this soluble starch while I heat up the water," she ordered. "I think you can handle that."

I had no idea what a soluble starch was, but I guessed that it was the mysterious substance in the bottle. I set to work trying to measure exactly .5 g. I was absolutely terrible with the scales, and it always took me forever to measure anything. After about ten minutes, I finally got the scales to measure .5 g, and a very impatient Brittney snatched the substance from me and dropped it into the hot water.

She then proceeded with the experiment while I stood idly and waited for more orders. My thoughts dwelled solely on Emily. Was she okay? What happened to her? Where could she be?

"Amelia," Brittney ordered, "I need you to measure 25 ml of juice in this flask." She handed me a flask and the beaker of juice. I obeyed, and proceeded to pour the juice into the flask. I was very distracted by the situation with Emily, and wasn't fully paying attention to that I was doing.

I felt the beaker slip out of my hand. I caught it before it fell, but spilled juice all over my arms and shirt. Brittney groaned. "God damn it, Amelia!" she cried as she snatched the beaker from my hands. "I'll do it myself!" She stormed to the front of the room to refill the beaker. I took off my goggles and examined myself. I was sticky with juice, and the front of my shirt was soaked. I remembered that I had a clean gym shirt somewhere in my locker, and I left the room to go change and wash the juice off my skin.

I descended three flights of stairs and went to my locker. How could I have been so distracted and careless? Why didn't I pay attention to any aspect of the lab? I was going to fail the lab report for certain. This day was really beginning to suck.

I went into the first floor girl's bathroom and changed my shirt in one of the stalls. The gym shirt was old, baggy, and anything but attractive, but at least it was clean and dry. I washed my hands and arms in the sink, dried off, and went back to my locker.

As I was stuffing my juice-soaked shirt in my locker, someone came walking by. I turned and saw Dylan heading to his locker over by the stairs. There was no one else in the hallway.

I decided that I had better head back to class. I shut my locker and headed over to the stairs. As I passed by Dylan, I suddenly heard a girl scream. I jumped, and Dylan looked at me, as if thinking that I was the one who screamed.

"That wasn't me," I said to him. "It's coming from the other end of the hallway."

We heard the scream again, and this time we heard the girl shout, "help me!"

I gasped when I recognized the voice. "Emmy?" I cried, hoping she would answer. I received no answer, and there were no teachers in sight. I decided that I needed to help her.

"Come on, Dylan," I said, "help me look for Emily!"

Hearing the fear and urgency in my voice, he complied. We ran down the hall in the direction of her voice, screaming her name the whole way. We got to where the hallway turned to the left, looked around, and saw no one.

"Damn it," I said, panting in terror. "Emmy? Where are you?"

"We should go get the teachers," Dylan said, "they'll know what to do."

I heard Emily cry out to us again. "There's no time for that," I said, running in the direction of Emily's voice. I turned left and ran down the hallway with Dylan, still objecting, hot on my heels. We ran the entire length of the hallway, and stopped when we got to the emergency exit at the end.

"The exit's ajar," I replied, pushing the door open. I looked out across the fields in the back of the school, and caught a brief glimpse of four people heading into the field house on the far end of the soccer field. I was able to see Emily's black hair whipping in the wind before she disappeared into the field house.

"EMMY!" I screamed, but no response came.

"We should go get the teachers," Dylan repeated, tugging at my sleeve.

"There's no time," I said.

"If those people that took her are dangerous," Dylan insisted, "we could be putting ourselves at risk by going after her alone. Now let's go get help!"

"You go get help if you want to; I'm going after Emily!" I said, stepping over the exit's threshold.

"Amelia!" Dylan cried, clearly frightened. "Come back! Don't go alone!"

I ignored him and began to run across the soccer field. I didn't know why I was so insistent on going after Emily alone, or why I felt the need to go after her immediately. But for some reason, I felt that I needed to go after her myself.

I heard footsteps behind me, and saw Dylan running after me. "Wait up!" he cried. "I'm not letting you go in there by yourself!"

I stopped and looked at him quizzically. He seemed worried about me all of a sudden, and it seemed like he actually cared about what happened to me. However, I didn't have time to ask about the sudden change in his behavior, because we heard Emily shout again. Dylan and I ran side by side over to the field house.

The field house was always locked, and only the gym teachers and sports coaches had keys to it. I was extremely surprised that Emily's kidnappers had been able to get inside, and I wondered how in the world they did it.

The door was open a crack, and we stopped just outside of it. I peered through the opening, and with the aid of the light streaming in through the two large windows in the walls, I was able to see inside. I saw Emily sitting on a stack of boxes, looking as calm as ever. She had been screaming in distress just a few minutes go, but now she looked as though nothing was wrong.

Standing around Emily were three adults dressed in brown robes. I found their attire very strange; they looked like three Jedi Knights out of Star Wars. One of them was a tall, well-built woman with chocolate brown hair and eyes. Behind the woman were two men. One was small and graying, and had his foot tangled in a volleyball net lying on the floor. The other was medium sized and looked to be of Oriental descent. His black hair was pulled back in a queue, and he was wearing a black cloak. He was busy trying to help the other man out of the volleyball net.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked myself under my breath. The four of them seemed to be waiting around for something, and the scene looked nothing like a kidnapping. I noticed Dylan standing beside me peering inside the house as well. He gave me a puzzled look, and I shrugged, unable to think of what to do next.

The woman looked in our direction. We gasped and jumped back, and hoped she didn't see us.

"What is it?" I heard Emily ask.

"She's here," the woman said with a husky voice, "and she has a companion."

"Shit!" I heard Dylan whisper. He and I curled our fists and took firm stances. We were prepared to fight anyone that came near us.

The field house door opened, but no one came out. Confused, we peered inside, and saw that no one had moved.

"Lia!" Emily cried.

"Emmy?" I called back. "What is going on? Who are these people?"

"Come inside," the woman said. Dylan obeyed, and walked inside the field house.

"Dylan!" I hissed. "What are you doing? Get back out here!"

Dylan ignored me, and I called to him again. I swore loudly and went to retrieve him.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold, the door slammed behind me. I backed against the wall, and glared at the three adults.

"Her mind is indeed strong," the man with the queue commented.

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want with Emily?" I snarled.

Emily stood up and strode over to me. "This isn't about me," she said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "You were kidnapped for Christ's sake!"

Emily shook her head. "I'm sorry for having deceived you like this," she said solemnly, "but I needed to get you to follow us."

Enraged, I glared at her. "You mean you lured me here?" I asked through gritted teeth. The three adults in the room made me feel edgy for some reason.

"Emily, what is going on?" I asked. My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists in agitation and anger. "Everyone is worried sick about you," I continued.

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"First of all," I replied, "everyone has noticed your strange behavior today, and we're worried about what could possibly make you act so strangely. Secondly, the principal, the guidance counselors, and no doubt the school police by now, have noticed that you've gone missing and are looking everywhere for you." Emily's eyes widened in surprise, and I continued, "now tell me what is going on. For God's sake, I'm your best friend! I deserve to know!"

Emily looked saddened. "I'm very sorry," she said, looking directly into my hazel eyes. "I'm very sorry for having to do this, but it's for your own safety." She sighed, but never broke eye contact. "I need you to forget everything that has happened."

"What?" I asked in annoyance.

"Do what she says," the woman said harshly.

"Nothing strange happened today," Emily replied. "Today was completely normal, and you will go about your business as if nothing has changed."

"You will obey her," the man with the queue said.

"Trust her," the graying man replied, "forget what you have seen."

My head felt really weird. It was as if I was no longer in control of my own thoughts. I lost track of where I was. I had a hard time remembering what had happened. I couldn't remember anything I had done earlier in the day. I seemed to be floating in a sea of nothingness. My memories seemed unimportant all of a sudden. All I wanted to do was forget everything about this day.

While I was floating in the sea of confusion and forgetfulness, I heard something from what seemed like far away. "Don't listen to her!" a faint male voice cried out to me. "They can't control you!"

He was right. Emily couldn't control me. No one could control me. I wasn't going to let anyone tell me what to do.

I focused on escaping the forgetful state. "You can't manipulate me!" I heard myself scream. I opened my eyes, and found myself back in the field house, with all the memories of the day's events fully intact.

Emily was gaping at me, and the three adults looked shocked as well. Dylan was rubbing his head.

"What just happened?" Dylan asked. "What was that all about? My head felt all fuzzy for a second." I realized that he too had been going through the same experience.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull," I growled at Emily, "but you're coming back to school with me. If you don't want to explain what's going on to me, fine. You can explain everything to the teachers when I hand you over to them."

Dylan looked horrified, but I didn't care. I grabbed Emily's arm, turned to Dylan, and said, "I'm leaving now. Are you coming?"

Dylan followed me without hesitation. I kicked the door open and half-dragged Emily out of the field house. I expected the adults to follow us, but luckily none of them did.

"What are we going to tell the teachers?" Dylan asked.

"Just let me do the talking," I replied angrily, "and let Emily think of something to tell them." I couldn't very well tell the teachers that Emily had lured me into the field house by faking a kidnapping, and then tried to use some kind of mind trick to make me forget everything. The teachers would never believe me if I did. Hell, I hardly believed that any of this was really happening.

I had gone after Emily to uncover the truth about what was really going on, and had only come back with more questions than ever.


	5. Lacrosse Hell

**Chapter 5**

**Lacrosse Hell**

Emily had indeed caused quite a commotion among the school authorities. When we got back to school, we found ourselves surrounded by the principal, four secretaries, three guidance counselors, and three police officers. We were swarmed with questions, but I did all the talking. Dylan was obediently silent.

I told them that Dylan and I had been at our lockers when we heard Emily scream. I told them that we followed Emily's voice, saw her being escorted into the field house by some people, and went after her. I was vague with the last details of the story, only saying that I caught up with Emily, grabbed her, and ran back to the school.

"No one pursued you?" the principal asked.

"No," I replied, "I don't know who those people were, what they wanted with Emily, or why they didn't follow us. That is all I know."

They bought it. They dismissed Dylan and I and gave us passes back to class, but kept Emily for further questioning.

The rest of Chemistry went by in a kind of blur. When I got back, everyone had finished the experiment and had begun to work on the lab reports that would be due the next class. I spent the rest of class staring at a blank sheet of paper and ignoring Katherine poking me on the shoulder. I tried to decide whether or not I should tell everyone what had just happened. I figured that they were as likely to believe me as the teachers.

I wondered how Emily was going to explain her disappearance to the teachers. I sort of felt bad for putting her in that kind of a situation, but in a way, she deserved it after the way she treated her friends. She especially deserved it after she tried to erase my memories, if that was what she was trying to do. I eventually decided that she got herself into the current situation, and that it was not my problem.

The bell to end Chemistry rang at last, and I quickly went to my last period art class. I took my usual seat at a table with Gary, Caitlyn, and Arleen.

"I don't want to talk about Emily," I said before any of them opened their mouths. "Just don't bother me, okay? I need time to think."

I put my head in my hands, and my friends began talking amongst themselves. When the bell to begin class rang, we all started working on our charcoal drawing projects. I was too distracted to do much work on my drawing of a female Jedi wielding her light saber. I only darkened the background a bit.

Art was never my strongest point, but I was fairly decent at it. However, my charcoal picture looked cartoon-like. The woman in the picture only slightly resembled how I imagined her. I imagined her as a beautiful woman with long, wavy, dark hair, sunken cheeks, oval eyes, and a piercing gaze. The woman in my picture, however, had unnaturally flowing hair, no discernable cheekbones, round eyes, and a blank stare. Oh well. It was good enough for a decent grade, and was therefore good enough for me.

Ms. Dammann, my teacher, walked up behind me and stared at my drawing. "Who is she?" she asked. "I don't recognize her from any of the movies. Is she from one of the novels?"

"She's not a specific character," I said. "She's just someone I dreamt up."

"Is she Jedi or Sith?" Ms. Dammann asked. I loved my teacher. Her son was a Star Wars fan, and she liked Star Wars as well. She was the only teacher in the school with whom I could talk about Star Wars.

I stared at my drawing. It was in black and white, so her allegiance wasn't portrayed by a lightsaber color. I had never given thought to her allegiance before.

"I'd say Sith," I said. She seemed like a Sith to me, even though I had no idea why.

"If she's a Sith," Ms. Dammann replied, "then she needs to look meaner, doesn't she?"

"Yeah," I said, "but I can't seem to give her the angry expression and piercing gaze that I want. I also can't give her the sunken cheeks and oval eyes that I imagine."

"That's easy to fix," Ms. Dammann said. She smiled and took my piece of charcoal. "Let me show you," she said as she started to shade some areas of the face. I watched her carefully, and was amazed to see my drawing all of a sudden greatly resemble the woman I pictured in my mind. Her cheeks sunk in, her eyes narrowed, and her angry expression emerged on her now perfected face.

"There," Ms. Dammann said, giving me back my charcoal, "you can finish shading the rest."

"Thank you," I said, stunned to see a more accurate representation of the woman glaring back at me from the paper. She was beautiful, yet very angry and terrible. The more I stared at her, the more I realized that she was most definitely a Sith.

As art class drew on, I started feeling a little better. I engaged in conversation with my friends, and the subject of Emily was avoided altogether. However, I was still thankful when the bell to end art class rung.

I headed to my locker, and was about to grab my stuff and leave when I remembered that I had lacrosse practice that afternoon right after school. I swore loudly as I pulled my books, gym clothes, and lacrosse equipment out of my locker and slammed the door in disgust. My day was already bad, and the last thing I wanted to do was go to lacrosse practice, because that would only make my day and mood worse. Still cursing, I trudged reluctantly to the locker rooms.

I was the first one in the girl's locker room and got to change my clothes in seclusion. Right after I finished changing, the girl's lacrosse players started trickling into the room.

I don't know what possessed me and compelled me to join the lacrosse team. I was never a big fan of sports, and wasn't an extremely athletic person. Sure I was in shape, and I was a good runner, but I had absolutely no skills in lacrosse, or any other sport for that matter. In addition, almost all of the members of the girl's lacrosse teams were preppies like Aurora. I hated almost all of them, especially the arrogant, self-absorbed bitches on the Varsity team. I was only friendly with a couple of people on the Junior Varsity team who also had no clue why they joined lacrosse in the first place.

I grabbed my lacrosse gear and left the locker room before more preppies arrived. I headed out onto the fields and found that it had clouded up and begun to drizzle. It was also significantly colder, and it made me wish I hadn't been wearing shorts.

I was so early for practice that I was the first one on the field. I decided to get my legs warmed up by jogging around the soccer field. As I jogged, I saw Emily walking on the far side of the soccer field with the robed woman from earlier. I jogged closer, hoping to catch a snippet of their conversation.

"I had to use the mind trick on all of them," I heard Emily say. "It wasn't difficult to influence them; they were all weak-minded. I convinced them that nothing was wrong and to drop the matter."

"Good," said the woman, "now you can concentrate on your assignment."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Emily said. "I fear that she will start avoiding me now. I know her, and that's the type of thing she would do. I don't see how I'm going to keep her close if she avoids me and I remain incapable of manipulating her."

"You will not have to do this alone," said the woman. "The Council is sending others to aid you in this assignment."

When I noticed Emily glancing at me, I ran away hastily, and pretended that I was just jogging by. I was sure that she was going to hate me after all the eavesdropping I did today, and I didn't know why I was so curious about Emily's conversations. I resolved that if Emily's attitude changed tomorrow, I would apologize to her.

I thought back on the events of the day. Everything I had seen and heard seemed like something out a Star Wars novel. At first I thought that this whole charade was a total joke, but what happened in the field house seemed very real. I had never experienced such a sensation before, and I doubted that it was natural. Maybe the Force was real, and maybe there were people who could manipulate it.

I shook my head and shoved that thought out of my mind. I was being irrational. Star Wars was not real. There were no such things as the Force, a Jedi, a Sith, or mind manipulation. There had to be a logical explanation for all of this. These people, talking about the Force as if it was real, were just nuts, and were probably just joking around.

However, the conflict over whether or not the whole Jedi thing was real continued to rage in my head. I gripped the lacrosse stick tighter in frustration.

Suddenly, someone jumped on my shoulders and shouted the word "CALM!" in my ear. I shrieked in surprise and threw the person off. I looked down and saw a boy about four inches shorter than me rolling on the ground laughing.

"MAX!" I screamed at him. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO DO THAT TO ME? YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!" He continued to laugh, got up, and ran away from me. "AND IF I HEAR YOU SAY THE WORD 'CALM' ONE MORE TIME, I'M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU!" I screamed, running after him and wielding my lacrosse stick like a club.

Max annoyed the hell out of me. I was a very high-strung person, and Max took it upon himself to constantly remind me that I needed to calm down. However, he always did this in a very annoying manner. He would say the word "calm" to me at least twenty times every practice, and by now, I was quite tired of it.

"Calm calm calm!" Max said tauntingly, sticking his tongue out and continuing to run away from me. As I ran after Max, several of the girls rolled their eyes at me.

Our school lacked money, so there were very few sports coaches to go around. The coach for the boys and girls Senior and Junior Varsity lacrosse teams was the same person, so all four teams shared the same practice session. I was glad of this, because I always found that the guys were slightly nicer to me than the girls. I was friendly with a few guys on the boys Junior Varsity team, but none of them were anything more than acquaintances.

Suddenly, a barking male voice shouted, "HALT!"

Max and I immediately stopped running. Our coach had arrived.

A short and stocky man with no neck, a square chin, and broad shoulders lumbered toward the crowd of lacrosse players. The gigantic muscles in his arms and chest were clearly visible through his tight T-shirt, and a whistle hung from a string around his neck. Everyone immediately stopped talking and looked frightened when they saw him approaching.

"FORM THE LINES!" He shouted. We all scrambled around and set about forming ourselves into four lines according to team. We then shuffled around so that every player was in alphabetical order.

We stood perfectly straight and still, and held our lacrosse sticks in front of us. The coach paced in front of the lines with his hands behind his back and looked us up and down.

Coach Schlater must have been a drill sergeant in a past life. He treated lacrosse practice like boot camp. He was obsessed with straight lines, formations, and perfection. He was intolerable of failure, and if one made a single mistake, one was forced to run an unspecified number of laps around the soccer field and/or do an unspecified number of pushups.

He spent every lacrosse practice session screaming at us for absolutely no reason. He even screamed the simplest of instructions. Hell, I was convinced that he was physically incapable of lowering his voice below a shout. He even screamed random things while we ran laps and played our practice games. One was able to tune out the screaming eventually, but those unfortunate players who made mistakes during practice were forced to endure the coach screaming insults in their ears while they endured their physical punishment. Lacrosse practice eliminated all thoughts of joining the military for me, because if boot camp was anything like lacrosse practice, I would never be able to survive it for more than a day.

This lacrosse field tyrant was so bad that he was bordering on psychotic, maybe even outright insane. A few of the Junior Varsity players were certain that he suffered from Little Man's Syndrome. Everyone, regardless of skill or position on the Junior or Senior Varsity teams, was afraid of him, and his behavior earned him the nickname "the Schlatinator".

"ALL RIGHT YOU SORRY LOT OF SISSIES," he screamed, "I WANT TO SEE LAPS AROUND THE SOCCER FIELD WHILE CRADLING! GO! GO! GO!" He blasted his whistle, signaling us to get moving.

We scrambled around, each grabbed a lacrosse ball out of the box of lacrosse balls lying on the ground, and took off down the soccer field. The chill, damp air nipped at my face and exposed limbs, and the drizzle grew steadier.

While I ran with the other players, I caught a glimpse of Emily and the woman. They were seated on a bench on a grassy knoll and were staring at us. All of the screaming had apparently gotten their attention. Emily was looking astonished and wide-eyed at the lot of us. She had never seen the lacrosse teams practice before, and the coach's behavior no doubt surprised her. The woman looked amazed at all the screaming as well.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?" the Schlatinator bellowed. "DID YOU EAT A BOWL OF 'SLOW' THIS MORNING? PICK UP THE PACE OR ELSE IT'S TWENTY PUSH-UPS FOR ALL!"

Everyone ran faster. My legs and lungs began to burn, but I kept running. I knew that if I didn't, I would only have to run more laps as punishment.

We must have run about twenty laps, maybe more. I lost track at around seven. I was about ready to collapse from exhaustion when the coach blew his whistle and signaled us to come back. Gasping for air, I got back in line with the rest of the players.

"ALL RIGHT YOU LAZY BUMS!" the coach screamed. "I WANT TO SEE RUNNING PASSES! GO! GO! GO!" He blasted his whistle and we all got out of line and obeyed his command.

Groaning, I paired up with someone from the girl's Junior Varsity team and ran down the soccer field. We threw the balls with our sticks as we ran. As we practiced passing, I either didn't throw the ball hard enough or I overthrew it, and I missed half of the return passes. My position on the Junior Varsity team was "primary bench warmer" for a very good reason. I sucked at lacrosse. I was the back up for the secondary back ups because I had no skills whatsoever. Unfortunately, I discovered this fact after I had joined the team, and the Schlatinator never let anyone quit his teams, regardless of how bad they were.

So the only time I got to handle a lacrosse stick was during practice. One would think that I would get better at the sport with practice, but for some reason, I never did. I sucked at lacrosse now as much as I sucked when I first joined.

The only reason I was on the team in the first place was because the athletic department let anyone who wanted to be on the Junior Varsity lacrosse team join it. I had always wondered why no one wanted to do lacrosse, and why everyone who signed up made the team. As soon as I met Coach Schlater, however, I instantly discovered why. I had every intention of quitting lacrosse as soon as the season was over.

I passed by Emily and the woman again. Emily's jaw was hanging open, and the woman looked thoroughly confused over what was going on. The Schlatinator continued to scream, and I smiled at Emily nervously. God, this was embarrassing!

After twenty more laps, Schlater called us back with another shrill blow of his whistle. We re-formed the lines and stood attentively as Schlater paced in front of us again.

"We go against our long-time rival Eastman High this weekend!" he shouted. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANOTHER LOSS! So you will be playing games against each other for the rest of practice!"

He split up the players into smaller teams and opened a bag of micromesh jerseys. We each took a different color jersey according to what team we were assigned, and we immediately split up and began playing. My team and our opponents went to the far end of the soccer field, which was now nothing more than a torn-up mud hole.

During our game, I never got to handle the ball. All of the other players were better than me, and kept the ball to themselves. I mostly just hurled myself into the mass of people, ran around with them, and made it look like I was playing. If Schlater even _thought_ that I wasn't actually playing, he would scream his head off and make me do laps and pushups until my limbs fell off.

The Schlatinator screamed throughout the game, but I eventually tuned him out. Everyone was running, pushing, and shoving each other, and it was hard to tell who had the ball, or what was happening for that matter. I stole a few glances back at Emily and the woman. They were still sitting on the bench and talking to each other. I wondered what they were talking about and why they didn't go inside and get out of the cold rain, which was falling pretty steadily now.

People's feet began slipping on the damp grass and mud, and a couple of people twisted their ankles, but we continued playing. I knew that our coach would never cancel practice because of the weather. He had us practicing in downpours on a number of occasions. Hell, he would even have us practicing if the earth split in half and fire rain fell from the sky. He didn't care. He wasn't the one running around getting wet, muddy, cold, and physically exhausted.

Someone scored. I had no idea who, and I didn't care. I found myself taking up my position on the field again as the ball was re-released. I plodded around, wishing that practice would just end. I was wet, tired, hungry, and I wanted to go home. I was too preoccupied with Emily and the drama of the day's events to even think about lacrosse. I looked over at Emily again. She was staring at me. I wanted nothing more than to go over and talk to her.

My thoughts were interrupted by a stick that hit me hard on the side of my head. The force of the blow was intense, and I instantly fell over. I heard a couple of girls scream, and then everything went black. I couldn't see, hear, nor remember anything.


	6. Confession

**Chapter 6**

**Confession**

I wasn't out for very long. I woke up and found myself lying on my back on the soccer field, with lacrosse players and coach Schlater gathered around me. Next to me, an older girl looked panicked and was shouting, "Lia, I'm _really, REALLY_ sorry!"

"Huh?" I heard myself mumble. I was extremely confused. I barely remembered what had just happened.

The events after that were a complete blur. The next thing I knew, I was lying in a bed in the nurse's office with a blanket wrapped around me. Sitting on a stool next to my bed was Emily. She had her eyes closed, and she looked as if she was meditating or something.

I groaned and attempted to sit up. Emily's eyes snapped open. "Relax," she said, "there's no need to get up. Your mother's on her way."

"What happened?" I asked, lying back down.

"You have a concussion," Emily replied, "you've been confused and delirious for a little while. Do you remember being brought here?"

I shook my head and instantly regretted it. My head throbbed painfully.

"That coach of yours is insane," Emily said. "What does he think this is, military training?" She laughed, and I smiled. For the first time all day, she was beginning to sound like her normal self.

There was a brief period of silence as we both tried to think of something to say. I broke the silence with the question I had asked her a million times that day.

"Emily," I said calmly, "will you please tell me what's going on."

"I can't," Emily replied.

"Come on Em," I moaned, "I'm wet, tired, sore, I have a concussion, and I hate being kept in the dark. Will you _please_ tell me what's going on, for the love of God?"

Emily sighed. "I guess it was only a matter of time before you found out that something was up," she said. "And with today's events, I guess it will be impossible to keep it a secret from you any longer. You're going to figure it out eventually anyway." She looked hard into my eyes, and I braced myself for whatever was coming. "What I am going to tell you may be impossible for you to believe-"

"Trust me," I interrupted, "after today, I think I'm willing to believe anything."

Emily clenched her eyes shut and struggled to say, "I am a Jedi."

I raised an eyebrow. "What?" I asked in disbelief. "Are you in some kind of club?"

"No!" Emily said, staring into my eyes. "I mean a _real_ Jedi!"

"As in-"

"As in the Jedi from Star Wars," Emily replied. "I can feel the Force and use its mystical energies. I have powers and abilities that most people on this planet have never seen outside of the movies."

"Wait a minute," I said, "you can't be serious! Star Wars is just a movie!"

"Star Wars," Emily said impatiently, "was created by a Jedi Knight who came to study the Force's presence in this galaxy. He created Star Wars to tell this world the story of the Jedi in his home galaxy."

"So-"

"So Star Wars is real," Emily replied, "it is a historical record of the events of the creator's home galaxy's past."

"Right," I said sarcastically, "and I'm Hermione Granger. What next? Are you going to tell me that there really was a Dark Lord Sauron who forged the One Ring in one of Earth's volcanoes?"

Emily sighed and held her head in her hands. "I knew you weren't going to believe me," she said. "Didn't I say that what I was going to tell you would be impossible to believe?"

"Look," I said, "I'm a rational person, and I'm not going to start believing that science fiction isn't fiction until I see proof. Prove to me that you're a Jedi, and then we'll talk."

She sighed and extended her hand toward a glass of water on the table on the other side of the bed. I gasped as the glass slowly floated into the air. I looked over at Emily. As she raised her hand higher, the glass floated higher. She moved her hand to the side, and the glass moved over to my mouth.

"Drink," Emily commanded. The glass touched my lips and tipped slightly. I obediently drank some water, and the glass floated back over to the bedside table.

My eyes were widened in shock and I stared at Emily with a mixture of confusion and fright. "What the fuck was that?" I sputtered.

"Telekinesis," Emily replied, "it is an ability that all Jedi possess, and is one of the first things we learn. You have no doubt seen this ability portrayed in the movies."

I tried to speak, but no words came out. If I hadn't seen it, I would never have believed that what Emily had just done was possible. I was about to dismiss it as a parlor trick when I remembered everything I had seen and heard that day. Emily unlocked a janitor's closet just by touching the doorknob and concentrating. She and her companions got into a locked field house without any difficulties. Every time I eavesdropped on Emily, one of her companions always knew I was there, even though I was hidden from view. I had experienced an attempted mind manipulation for myself just a few hours previously. I had never before felt that kind of a sensation, and I knew that it wasn't normal or natural.

Maybe Star Wars really was real? The voice inside the janitor's closet sounded too identical to Master Yoda's to be coincidence. Every time I heard one of them about Jedi stuff, they sounded too serious to be playing any kind of a practical joke.

"Do you believe me now?" Emily asked.

"But if you're a Jedi," I said, "why aren't you off gallivanting around the galaxy in space ships, protecting and helping others, or living the hard, hermit-like life of a Jedi?"

"Because I have duties on this planet," she said, "duties that are far more important than my own spiritual growth. I am learning the ways of the Jedi so that I can acquire the skills necessary to carry out my orders."

"And what would those orders be?"

"I can't tell you that right now," she said, "in time, perhaps, you will come to know, but now is not the time."

"Oh for God's sake," I said, "you're not making things any better! You can't just leave me hanging like that!"

"Why don't you dabble in Jedi self-discipline for a second," she said in an irritated tone, "and conquer your curiosity."

I groaned in frustration. Why was she so determined to keep me in the dark? By telling me as little as she did, Emily only made things worse. I was dying to know more about the real Jedi, and about Emily and her mission, and about why it was so necessary to keep what was happening a secret.

I sighed. At least she told me _something_. I figures I'd just have to get the information out of her in due time.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked. "You know I love Star Wars and that I would be thrilled if I found out that the whole thing was true!"

"Because I didn't want to cause a scene," Emily said, "I didn't even want you knowing. I figured that things would be simpler if no one ever knew."

"A scene?" I exclaimed, suddenly infuriated. "A SCENE? You didn't want to cause a scene! Give me a break! You caused a complete fiasco today, and you're telling me that you didn't want to cause a scene!"

"I'm sorry," Emily replied, looking at the floor. "I guess I didn't do such a good job of keeping things under control, did I?"

"No," I said bluntly. "And another thing. Why did you want Dylan and I to follow you into the field house? What were you trying to do to us?"

"I didn't want Dylan to follow," said Emily, "I only wanted you to come, and I didn't expect you to bring a companion. All I wanted to do was influence you into thinking that nothing was wrong. It was my attempt to clean up the mess I made of things. I was hoping that if I could convince you that nothing was abnormal, the situation would be under control. I knew that just telling you that nothing was wrong wouldn't work, because you're so stubborn."

"So you decided to use the Jedi mind trick on me," I interrupted.

"I had tried it earlier today at lunch and failed. The trick only works on the weak-minded, and your mind is anything but weak. So I led you to the field house and to three Jedi Masters. With our combined efforts, we almost succeeded in performing the mind trick on you and Dylan. But something interfered with the process. Some other powerful force or mind severed the connection between our minds and yours, allowing you and Dylan to break free of our influence."

"What interfered?" I asked.

"That I really don't know," Emily assured me.

An awkward silence fell. I was struggling to process everything she had just told me. I tried to have an open mind, and even though the day's events provided more than enough evidence to support Emily's claims, it was all still so very hard to believe.

"I have to go," Emily said, standing up, "I can sense your mother approaching. I will leave you in her care, now."

"Wait!" I said. "One more thing. Why were you so late for math this morning?"

Emily stared at me blankly for a moment. Then her expression darkened. She turned away from me and said, "I had some urgent matters to attend to that couldn't wait."

"Here we go again with the mysterious talk!" I shouted. "Tell me, do you _practice_ being vague? Is it in Jedi basic training or something?" I felt myself starting on another one of my angry rants and stopped talking. I looked at Emily, saw the pained expression on her face, and knew that she wanted to tell me everything but was forbidden to do so. I didn't press the matter further. I didn't want to upset her even more than I already had.

"I have to go," Emily said, turning to leave.

"Emmy, wait!" I called, reaching out to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so angry at you today."

"I don't hold you at fault," she said, "you have not yet learned to understand and control your emotions as I have."

Without another word, she walked out of the nurse's office. Did she believe that I was really sorry? I felt terrible for being so angry and irritable with her. Even after everything she had said and done that day, there was no excuse for my behavior.

Just then, my mother came in. Her face was bright red, and she looked as if she had run all the way from our house. She looked frightened.

"Amelia!" she cried, running over and hugging me. "What happened?"

"Someone accidentally hit me in the head with a lacrosse stick," I replied, "but I feel fine now. It's just a concussion, nothing too serious."

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. "What day of the week is it?"

"Tuesday," I replied.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

"When's your birthday?"

"September 15."

"Where-"

"Oh for crying out loud, Mom!" I cried. "I'm perfectly fine! Honest! Let's just go home."

I was able to slowly stand up without difficulty. I saw that my things had been brought into the nurse's office and were lying on the floor next to the bed. Mom picked up my things, and we left.

It was pouring steadily when we left the school, and it didn't help my mood. The lacrosse teams were still practicing on the soccer field, which was now a mud hole, and Coach Schlater was still screaming his head off.

I couldn't help but think about how Emily reacted when I asked her about the reason for her tardiness. Why didn't she look at me? Her expression was so grave. What was so wrong that it even disturbed her, who claimed to have her emotions under control?

We ate dinner as soon as we got home that night. After dinner, I immediately got to work on the mountain of homework that was due the next day.

While I was working on my algebra homework, my mom walked in the door.

"Lia, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong," I said. "It's just a concussion; I'll be fine."

"I'm not talking about that," Mom replied "You seem to be unusually quiet."

She was right. This whole thing with Emily being a Jedi had me really distracted. I had barely said two words to Mom all during dinner, and my Algebra homework was going slower than usual. I knew I wasn't acting right, but I didn't feel like talking about it.

"I'm fine, Mom," I said dismissively, "I'm just distracted with schoolwork, that's all." I knew she was concerned about me. Maybe I would tell her about what was bugging me later on, but I didn't want to talk about it right now. All I wanted was to be left alone.

"All right," Mom said, clearly not believing me, "but if there's anything you want to talk about, just let me know. I'm always here to listen.

"Thanks Mom, I will."

Mom left, and I put my pencil down and rested my head against my math book. Huge Algebra problems stared up at me, but I took no notice. Tears started trickling down my cheeks and soaking the pages of the book. I had no idea why I was so upset. Maybe everything Emily had told me was just that overwhelming? I really didn't mind Emily being a Jedi! Hell, I thought it was awesome! Star Wars was my favorite movie and the love of my life. As a child, I had always dreamt of it being real. I had played Star Wars with my friends, and we had acted like we were real Jedi saving the town from the evil Sith. Sometimes I even wished that Star Wars was real on falling stars. When I grew up, I gave up that dream, but I continued to love Star Wars as much as I always had.

And now, according to Emily, everything that I had wished for as a child had come true. My old dream was finally a reality. Why then was I crying?


	7. The Nightmare

**Chapter 7**

**The Nightmare**

The Algebra problems vanished, and the room around me dissolved into darkness. It felt like I was weightless. Tiny white lights appeared around me, and I suddenly found myself in the cockpit of an X-Wing Class fighter craft. An R2 unit in the back beeped as I approached a planet that was a brilliant shade of blue and looked remarkably like Earth.

The next thing I knew, I was walking down a deserted hallway with white, metal walls. My R2 unit had stayed with the ship. I was alone, and I seemed to be looking for something, or someone. I heard a faint buzzing sound in the distance.

Just then a cloaked and hooded figure carrying something large approached me. I somehow knew who it was and drew my blue light saber. The figure moved closer, and I could see that the figure was carrying a limp body. I looked closely, and saw that the limp person greatly resembled Emily.

The buzzing sound grew louder and flooded my ears. It interrupted my thoughts, and the scene vanished. I opened my eyes abruptly, and found that I had fallen asleep on my Algebra book.

I sat bolt upright and looked over at my buzzing alarm clock. I gasped and almost fainted. According to my clock, it was 7:20 in the morning.

"SON OF A BITCH!" I screamed, leaping out of my chair and throwing off the previous day's clothes. As I changed, I caught sight of my math book and my homework.

"Oh fuck!" I exclaimed as I stared at my homework. I only had two of the problems done, and school started in just over twenty minutes. I didn't have time to finish it; I had to leave very soon.

"Duble is going to kill me!" I whimpered to myself as I tied my shoes. I threw my stuff in my bag and ran out of my room.

"Thanks for waking me up, Mom!" I shouted as I ran. "Bye!"

I threw my backpack on my back, hopped on my bike, and peddled as fast as I could to school.

I ran through the school's front doors and ran straight up the stairs to math. I looked at my watch. I was cutting it very close, but I hoped that maybe I would make it.

I burst into room 224 just as the bell rang. I almost screamed in rejoice. I was finally on time for a change. Panting, I went to my seat. Caitlyn and Lita were laughing, and Katherine smacked her hand on her forehead in disbelief.

"Lia," Katherine said, shaking her head, "when are you going to learn to get up earlier?"

"As soon as I buy a louder alarm clock," I wheezed though pants. I pulled my math homework out of my bag and immediately got to work on it. I decided to try the same thing Caitlyn did yesterday, and hoped that it would look like I at least tried to do it. Maybe my pathetic math skills would make my bullshit look believable. I looked over at Caitlyn and saw that she was doing the same thing I was.

Katherine saw what I Caitlyn and I were doing and hissed, "you two are pathetic, you know that? The homework wasn't that hard. There's no excuse for not having it done!"

"Kathy, shut it," I growled. "I had a rough day yesterday and fell asleep while doing my homework."

I ignored Katherine's scoff of disbelief and continued to scribble random shit on the paper. Mrs. Duble began to make her homework-checking rounds. I swore under my breath as I scribbled. I didn't care if Mrs. Duble didn't accept it for credit. I had had enough of Algebra class anyway.

I had circled my bogus answer for question thirty when I saw Mrs. Duble approach me. I smiled hopefully as she examined my homework. Katherine was glaring at the back of Mrs. Duble's head, as if trying to telepathically tell her not to accept my homework.

"Amelia," Mrs. Duble said darkly. My smile faded. She knew. "I know that you have no idea what you're doing in math," Mrs. Duble continued, "but I have never seen work _this_ bad from you." She pointed to one of the problems. "There is a complete absence of common sense here," she said, "the square root of forty-nine is seven, not three and a quarter. It is apparent that you didn't do the homework, and I am very upset that you tried to deceive me, Amelia." She glared at me and moved on to the boy in front of me.

Katherine glared at me and mouthed a "this is what you get". I gave her the finger and rolled my eyes. I glanced over at Emily, who was watching me intently. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned to face the front. I turned to Caitlyn and whispered, "what are these people's problems?"

"I have no idea," Caitlyn answered, shrugging.

Mrs. Duble made her way over to Caitlyn, grilled her for doing the same thing I did, and moved on.

"Honestly," Caitlyn whispered, leaning closer to me. "I don't know why I even bother doing this. She always sees right through me. Maybe I should just not attempt anything and hand her a blank sheet."

"That's what I'm going to do next time," I said.

"Maybe you two could try actually doing the homework for once," Katherine hissed, "maybe then you'll get some practice and learn something!"

"Dare to dream, do we Kathy?" Caitlyn hissed back. "Not everyone is as perfect as you, you know!"

The fight ended when Mrs. Duble went to the front of the room and began her lecture.

-----

I spent Algebra class doing what I normally did: staring at the board in blank confusion and glancing at the clock every five seconds. For some reason, Emily kept staring at me, but turned away as soon as I stared back.

As I relaxed my mind and body, my muscles and limbs began to hurt like hell. I was incredibly sore from yesterday's bike ride and lacrosse practice, but I had been too distracted with my mad rush to get to school and the homework crisis to notice it. As math class dragged on, it felt like my very bones were on fire. Even writing hurt my arms. My head where I got hit with the lacrosse stick started to throb intensely and I moaned in misery. It looked like today was going to be another bad day.

The homework assignment was another thirty problems of the same crap I didn't understand. I collapsed on my math book. The same problems from the night before looked up at me. I wished that I could just take a blaster and make them disappear.

Then I remembered my dream. I had been so distracted with everything else that I had forgotten all about it. I considered asking Emily what it meant, but decided against it. It was probably just some whacked out dream inspired by the previous day's crazy events. I pushed it out of my mind and wrote down the homework assignment.

-----

Second period U.S. History class was no better than Algebra. We got new assigned seats, and to my horror, I got stuck next to Dylan. As if I didn't get enough of that idiot in English, I now had to put up with him in History too.

My English teacher was always tolerant of our arguments. She rarely got mad at us for talking and fighting during class unless we were being really disruptive like yesterday. However, my history teacher was less than pleasant, and didn't tolerate the sound of a pin dropping during class. When Mr. Magallon was talking, everyone was to be absolutely silent. If anyone talked, they got yelled at. Repeat offenders received detentions, and even more repetitive offenders received lower grades.

There was no way Dylan and I were going to be able to refrain from fighting during History. We were positively incapable of being near each other and remaining silent because fights were always inevitable. So when I heard that I was stuck next to Dylan, my mood soured even more. I prepared myself for a boatload of detentions and an even worse history grade than the one I currently had.

Thankfully, Emily was seated behind me. I thought perhaps she would act as moderator for Dylan and me and would keep us from fighting.

"Em," I whispered to her as Mr. Magallon prepared his lecture notes, "you know how Dylan and I always act during English. Will you please try to keep us from fighting?"

"I'll do my best," Emily replied.

"Just, use the Jedi mind trick on him or something to keep him from annoying me," I said.

"We're not supposed to use the mind trick for petty things like that," Emily said testily.

"Emmy, I'm begging you!" I hissed, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "Please, for the sake of my History grade, do _something_! I'll do you a favor in return!"

Emily contemplated my offer for a moment, and then said, "you will have to do me a pretty big favor."

"Yes, yes," I said, "I'll do you a big favor! I really need your help on this one!"

"All right, all right," Emily sighed, "but you _so_ owe me for this!"

I smiled and turned around. Having a Jedi for a best friend was already proving to be pretty awesome.

"Okay!" Mr. Magallon announced, pulling out a stack of papers from his bag and throwing them on an empty desk in front of him. "I have a treat for you all. Pop quiz! Clear your desks!"

"Fuck!" I swore under my breath as I shoveled my books off my desk and kicked them under my chair. Several people around me swore and complained, and Mr. Magallon had a look of sadistic pleasure plastered across his wrinkled face. He passed out a stack of quizzes to each row, and we passed the quizzes back. When everyone had a quiz, he told us to begin.

I turned my paper over, and saw that it was on the Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century. I nearly gasped when I saw that it was only a few questions long. If I got one question wrong, my grade would drop significantly. If I got multiple questions wrong, my quiz grade would be officially screwed. I glanced over the questions and prayed that they weren't too hard.

_What is another name for this war?_

Easy: The French and Indian War.

_Which great power was born as a result of the war?_

Um… no clue.

_Who was the British Prime Minister at the time?_

Oh jeez. Um… Braddock?

_Why didn't the British send their best to North America?_

Because North America wasn't that wealthy, and the British weren't interested in it because of it?

_Who handled the fighting in Europe for the British?_

Oh! Wait! Gah! The name was familiar! Fredrick the Great?

_The Royal Governor of New France refused to accept the advice of which French general?_

Uh… what?

I knew I was doomed. I was going to fail another History quiz. If Mom found out about this, she was going to flip out.

I guessed on most of the questions, and hoped that I would receive at least partial credit for a few of them. I passed my quiz forward and fell over onto my desk. This day was proving to be just as bad as the last.

-----

I ended up getting a 42 on my quiz. I almost threw up when I saw the grade. Luckily, I wasn't the only one who failed. The lowest grade was a 17, so that made me feel a little better.

Luckily, I had lunch right after I got the quiz back, so I thought maybe my friends would help me get my mind off of it. Unfortunately, the great academic advisor Emily insisted on talking to me about it.

"Haven't you been paying attention to the lectures?" Emily pestered as we left History together. "He gave us all the answers during his lecture on Monday, and they were also on that two-page handout he gave us. Didn't you read the handout?"

"Oh stop it," I said, "leave me alone, will you?"

"Lia, what is wrong with you today?" Emily asked.

"There's nothing wrong," I said.

"Don't lie to me," Emily replied, "I know something's wrong. Now what is it?"

"Oh, that's right," I said, "you have Force Sense and can feel another's emotions."

"It's written all over your face," she retaliated. "Now tell me, what is bothering you?"

"Oh, let's see, I just miserably failed another quiz in History, I'm sore from practice, and my head is killing me!" I said cynically. "Could any of those _possibly_ be what's the matter?"

"No," said Emily, "that's not it. I saw the way you were acting toward Katherine during Algebra; you've been acting weird all day."

"If you must know," I said testily, "I was arguing with Katherine because she was scolding me, much like you're doing now, for not having my homework done, and I was getting annoyed at her like I'm getting annoyed at you right now."

"Besides," I added, "who are you to tell me that I'm acting weird after what you did yesterday?"

We turned the corner and entered the cafeteria. "Now will you please stop pestering me?" I asked as I jumped in line to go get food. Emily gave up her questioning and walked off. I sighed in disgust. Emily had slowed me down, and I was now stuck in a huge line.

The truth was, Emily was right. That dream had been bugging me all day. It seemed to set me in a bad mood that morning, and every time I thought about it, it disturbed me. I had no idea why it troubled me so much. I knew it was just a random and stupid Star Wars dream, but something about it disturbed me. Could it be the weird hooded figure? Maybe. He or she (or it) was very creepy-looking, almost Ringwraith-ish.

Or maybe it was the person the figure was carrying. She looked a lot like Emily. Maybe it was Emily. If it was, I wondered what had happened to her. How did she come into the hands of an evil-looking cloaked person? Was she dead or sleeping? The more I thought about it, the more the dream disturbed me. It had to be Emily's appearance that was bothering me.

I shook my head. It was just a weird dream and nothing more. I pushed it out of my mind, dismissed it as nothing, and concentrated on picking out what I wanted for lunch.

By the time I got out of line, lunch was half over. Luckily, my friends had saved me a seat at our usual table, so I was able to sit down next to Emily and start eating immediately. However, the topic of conversation between Liz and Amara made me wish I were eating at a different table.

"I'm telling you," Liz said, "Cloud 9 Brand is _not_ the way to go. XXX Brand is the best brand of condom there is!"

"And I'm telling you," Amara replied, "that Cloud 9 is better! I've tried XXX, and it's nothing special. You should use Cloud 9."

"I go with what brand is the best," said Liz, "and Cloud 9 it is not!"

"Oh who the hell cares?" Caitlyn cried from behind her laptop, looking revolted. "It's just a plastic sleeve! How could one _possibly_ be different than another?"

"There are loads of differences," said Liz, "for example-"

"I don't wanna know!" Caitlyn said, covering her ears.

"You guys are so perverted!" Lita spat. "Why are you even _talking_ about this in public, and at a lunch table, no doubt?"

"What is so wrong with talking about condoms?" Liz asked, spreading her arms and looking thoroughly confused.

"We don't want to hear it, that's what!" Kristen said glaring up at them.

"There's nothing wrong with it, we're all women and friends here," Amara replied. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"Some of us are shy," said Lita, "I mean, just look around you! Janet has her headphones on, Ann is bright red, and poor Taylor is feeling left out."

"I don't care what you people talk about," Taylor replied. "So leave me out of this."

"See?" Liz cried, pointing at Taylor. "She doesn't think there's anything wrong with talking about this! Who else doesn't mind us talking about condoms?"

"I mind," Arleen said, "can we please talk about something else?"

"How about you two?" Liz asked Emily and I.

"I'm trying to eat," I said, "so yes, I do mind."

"I'm not even listening," said Emily.

"You wouldn't," I said, "love and sex aren't parts of life for you people, are they?"

Emily looked at me sharply. I jumped when I heard her voice say, "don't tell them about me being a Jedi!" inside my head.

I was confused, and was going to ask why. However, when I saw the panicked and annoyed look on her face, I kept my mouth shut.

"What are you talking about?" Liz asked. "Sex and love don't enter into whose life?"

"Sex is a natural part of life," Amara replied, "how could anyone live without it?"

Emily looked at each of then, raised her hand slightly, and said, "forget about it and drop it."

They obeyed, and I assumed that they were under the influence of the Jedi mind trick.

"Anyway," said Amara, "you people are just naive. You'll understand why we don't mind talking about sex in due time."

"Yeah, virgins," Liz replied, "once you-"

"OH SHUT THE HELL UP!" Ann suddenly screamed. Everyone went silent, and gawked at her. Ann hardly ever spoke, and I had never before heard her scream, let alone swear. Ann grunted in annoyance and left the lunch table

"Whoa," Liz said in alarm, "guess we hit on a sensitive subject."

"See?" Caitlyn cried. "You've upset someone! Are you happy now?"

Everyone went silent again. I finished eating and looked in the direction Ann had left. I had never seen her like this, and I wondered why this topic made her so upset.

The bell rang to end lunch, and we all leapt out of our seats. As I was walking away, Emily grabbed my arm and pulled me aside.

"Lia," she said, looking very serious, "could you please not tell anyone that I am a Jedi?"

"Why not?" I asked. "You being a Jedi is awesome! All of our friends are Star Wars fans, and they'll think it rocks."

"Please, Lia!" she insisted. "I am under orders from the Jedi Council not to tell anyone that I am a Jedi! I technically shouldn't have told you."

"Why?" I asked, more confused than ever.

"This world is not ready to know the truth," she replied, "the Council feels that Earth society isn't ready or advanced enough to know about the Force yet."

"Okaaaaay," I said, "but our friends certainly aren't the whole of Earth society. They don't even so much as represent it."

"I know," Emily said, "but I cannot disobey the Council. You know that."

She was right. Anyone who watched the Star Wars movies knew that the Council's word was law among the Jedi, and that the Jedi did not question the wisdom of the Council.

"Plus," Emily continued, "if I wanted my friends knowing the truth about me, I would want to tell them myself, in my own way. You understand, right?"

"Yes" I said. I thought that not telling our friends was a big mistake and a betrayal of trust and friendship, but I said nothing. It was best to let Emily do what she wanted.

"So please," she said, "do that big favor you owe me and don't tell them anything about this."

"All right," I said, "but I still think keeping this a secret from them is a bad idea."

"It may be," Emily said with a sigh, "but I have to keep it a secret." She paused and continued, "I have to go. See you later."

"Bye," I said. We parted, and I proceeded immediately to the girl's locker room to change for PE class.


	8. Dodgeball

**Chapter 8**

**Dodgeball**

Luckily, my concussion excused me from doing anything strenuous in PE class. Until my concussion healed, all I had to do to get credit for PE was show up, change, and "do as much as possible within the bounds of comfort". So for me, that meant show up, change, run two steps, claim I wasn't feeling right, and sit out the rest of class.

The girl's locker room was full of giggling preppies running around in their underwear. I was not as bold and comfortable with myself as they so obviously were, so I stood in line outside the bathroom stalls. Students weren't supposed to change in the bathroom stalls, but all the shy people like myself ignored that rule and changed in there anyway. No one ever stopped us, and no one seemed to mind us changing in the stalls. I couldn't give a shit if anyone cared anyway. I wasn't changing my clothes in front of a bunch of vicious preppies, and that was that.

After I changed, I left the locker room and walked into the gymnasium. Last week, all of the gym teachers had decided that they wanted to challenge each other's classes to a dodgeball game, so they devoted the entire week to a dodgeball tournament between each of the PE classes. I hated dodgeball with a passion. I thought it was pointless and dangerous, because even though the balls were soft, the guys always threw them so hard that they often caused some physical damage to their targets. And I always seemed to get hit in the head.

Some of the jocks were throwing dodgeballs as hard as they could at each other when I entered. I kept my distance from them, not wanting to get hit in the head and end up with a worse concussion.

I sat down in front of the folded-up bleachers and waited for class to begin. The crowd of students who had gym third period slowly streamed in from the locker rooms. I caught sight of a short, chubby guy with black hair and glasses approaching me and moaned. I really didn't feel like talking to him right now.

He came to a stop in front of me. His hair was cut in a buzz cut, he had about five thousand dollars worth of braces in his mouth, and there was a small crack in one of the lenses of his glasses. He was wearing a T-shirt bearing the Star Wars logo and a pair of khaki shorts, and his high top sneakers were dirty, ripped, and covered in sharpie. He put his hands on his hips and gave me an annoyed look.

"You!" he shouted, pointing at me.

"Yes?" I asked. "What is it now, Russell?"

"Why didn't you show up to D&D Club again yesterday?" he asked.

"I told you," I said irritably, "I have lacrosse practice now on Tuesday afternoons."

"But the campaign needs your character!" he cried. "Yours is only sorcerer on the whole team!"

"I don't care about your god damn campaign!" I snapped. "I can't miss practice, and that's that! I don't like D&D anymore, anyway."

"Why not?" Russell asked horrified.

"Because it's not exciting to me anymore," I said, "I prefer games that have graphics, so that you can actually see what your character is doing."

"But that's what your imagination's for," said Russell.

"I outgrew D&D back when I was eight," I continued. "The game is too slow, tedious, and boring, and you're a horrible Dungeon Master!"

Russell gasped and looked horrified again. "You don't like how I run the campaign?" he asked.

"No," I said, "you're a pain in the ass! Your characters are too god-like, and you've changed my class three times without my permission."

"Fine then," he grunted, "I'll change your class back if you want."

"That's not the point," I said, "I'm tired of this damn game. I'm tired of your managing skills, I'm tired of the dice, and I'm tired of the pace. I have lacrosse practice now that I can't miss, so my D&D days are over."

"I'll move our meetings to a different day, then," Russell persisted. "Just please, come back to the club!"

I sighed. "Russell," I said, "will you please just give it up?"

"No!" he said. "I'm not giving it up until you come back to my campaign!"

"Oh Russell, drop it!" I said, standing up and looking him in the eyes. I wished that I knew the Jedi mind trick so I could force him to stop pestering me and go away.

"No!" he said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the PE teachers enter the gym.

"Class is starting," I said, thankful for an excuse to end the conversation. I began to walk away.

"Oh no you don't!" he said, grabbing my arm and dragging me back. "We're not finished yet."

"Let go of me!" I barked, wrenching my arm free and glaring at him. "And yes, we're done here!"

"What do I have to do to get you to rejoin my campaign?" he asked.

"What do I have to do to get you to drop it and leave me alone?" I asked.

The students gathered in the center of the gymnasium and I turned away and joined them. I took a seat on the floor, and Russell took a seat beside me.

"I have a proposition for you," he said.

"Whoopie," I said, rolling my eyes.

"It's a proposition I know you can't refuse," he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Watch me," I responded.

"I challenge you to a lightsaber duel!" he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you kidding me?" I asked in disgust.

"You can't refuse a challenge," he replied, "you will have to duel me, or else look like a coward!"

I rolled my eyes. He was right. I wasn't going to refuse a challenge, especially when he was the challenger. I wasn't going to be made a coward in front of all the people in the school's Star Wars fan club.

"So, what do you say?" he asked. "Will you fight me?"

"Fine," I grumbled, "what are the stakes?"

"If I win," he said, "you rejoin D&D Club and my campaign and remain on the campaign. I will even be nice and change the day of the meeting for you."

"How thoughtful. And if I win?" I asked.

"Then you can do whatever you want," he replied, "you can quit the club if you want, and I won't pester you or discuss it further."

"Fine," I said, "I accept your challenge, and your terms."

"Great!" he said with a devilish smile on his face. He rubbed his hands together like a comic book villain and added, "meet me at the soccer field today right after school."

"Aw, wouldn't you know?" I laughed. "I left my lightsaber at home today."

"Fine then," he scoffed, "after school tomorrow. Happy?"

"You're on," I said with a smirk. He shook hands and smiled evilly at each other. The gym teachers started talking to the assembled throng, and we stopped talking and listened.

The members of the Stars Wars fan club at Central High School always settled their disagreements through light saber duels. Anyone who refused a challenge suffered torment at the hands of the other fans, and the terms of a light saber duel could never be broken. It was a dumb system, but it worked, and was fun in its own weird way.

Even though we annoyed the hell out of each other, Russell and I had been friends since Junior High. We spent most of our time together arguing, and people who didn't know us would think that we didn't get along. However, our arguments were more like petty squabbles than actual fights, and we always ended on a smile. He was annoying, stubborn, and he drove me nuts, but he was my friend.

When the teachers finished talking, the tournament began. I timidly walked over to one side of the gymnasium with the rest of my class as another gym teacher led his class to the other side. Russell hurried over to my side, and we took a spot by a back corner. One of the teachers blew a whistle, and the game began. People chucked the balls as hard as they could at one another, and I instinctively covered my head with my arms.

A ball hit the wall near me and I jumped. Russell picked it up, bounced it against his head, and cried "oh ho! I've been hit! I'm out!"

I burst out laughing, and he lightly tossed the ball at me. It hit me in the stomach, and I cried "oh no! I'm out too!"

We sat down and continued to laugh. "That's what I love about this game," said Russell, "you really don't have to do anything if you just pretend that you've been hit."

I nodded, and we watched the others in our gym class continue to play. Many of them were really getting into the game, and a few were taking it extremely seriously. One guy on the opposite team tried to dodge three balls, but one hit him on the ankle. He screamed a variety of swear words and spiked the ball he was holding against the ground. The teachers yelled at him, and he stormed over to the sidelines.

"Jeez," Russell commented, "it's just a game! Chill out!"

A few minutes later, the remaining people on the opposite side of the gym were knocked out, and our team won.

"Whoop-di-do," I said, twirling my index finger in the air. Russell laughed, and we plodded to the opposite side of the gym with our teammates and prepared for another game.

The teacher blew the whistle, and people immediately darted to the center of the gym to grab a ball. A few of our teammates were knocked out, and the remainder moved to the back of the gymnasium with Russell and I.

"Wonderful," I said, "now all the enemy fire will be concentrated back here." I shielded my head with my arms and hoped that no one would aim at me.

More of our teammates were knocked out, and soon four jocks, Russell, and myself remained. Russell hurled himself at a ball that was bouncing toward us and declared himself knocked out. One of the jocks in front of me got hit in the head and was forced to sit down. I was now in clear view of the opposite team's front lines.

"Look out!" Russell yelled.

I had become a target, and three guys chucked dodgeballs at me. I didn't have time to think about what to do. Each dodgeball was coming from a different direction, and I couldn't think of where I could run to avoid each of them. Instinctively, I leapt into the air. One dodgeball passed under my feet and slammed against the back wall. As I descended to the ground, I shifted to the right. The second dodgeball barely missed my left side and joined the other dodgeball against the back wall. Immediately after I dodged the second one, I ducked, and the third dodgeball sailed over my head and landed in the back of the gym.

I pretended that I had been nicked by one of them and sat down. I looked at Russell, who was staring at me with his mouth open. I looked over at the guys on the opposite side of the gym. They too looked stunned. Behind them, a PE teacher smiled with approval.

"Whoa," Russell said with wide eyes.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"Where did _that_ come from?" Russell cried. "That was amazing!"

"What did I do?" I asked. I didn't think that I did anything special or amazing. What was Russell talking about? Why did everyone look so surprised?

"What you just did!" Russell cried, throwing his arms in the air. "First you were like, whoosh, and then you were like going Matrix, and then, it was awesome!" He looked like he was about to burst with excitement. "Dude! That was like Force Jump or something! How did you do it? Do it again!"

"What _are_ you talking about?" I asked, wishing that he would be clearer.

"Those awesome moves you just did with the dodgeballs!" he said. "That was unreal! Where did you learn to do something like that?"

"I didn't learn or do anything special," I said in annoyance. "I just dodged a few dodgeballs. What's so amazing about that?"

"That wasn't just ordinary dodging," Russell said. "You looked like something out of The Matrix!"

"Whatever, Russell," I said with a roll of my eyes. "I think you're going nuts."

"Fine if you don't believe me," Russell snorted, "but I know what I saw!"

The teacher blew the whistle to end the game. My team lost, so Russell and I got to sit on the sidelines and watch other people try to kill each other with dodgeballs for a while.


	9. May the Force Be With You

**Chapter 9**

**May the Force Be With You**

The PE teachers let us out of class extra early, and consequently, I was early for my last period symphony orchestra class in the basement of the main building. I went to one of the music lockers lining each side of the end of the hallway and pulled out my clarinet case and sheet music.

The orchestra practice room was empty when I went inside and took my seat in the clarinet section. The bell rang as I was setting up a music stand, and Mr. Fulger the orchestra teacher entered the practice room soon after.

Our orchestra conductor was a tall and very large man with blonde hair and a red face that turned purple whenever he was frustrated. He was usually easy-going and had a great sense of humor, but could be a perfectionist at times when it came to a piece of music. He was obsessed with his collection of conductor batons and kept them in a special box. He had a lime green baton that he called his "special occasion baton" and he only it used during concerts. He played every instrument in the orchestra, but specialized in the trumpet. Mr. Fulger was the head of the symphony orchestra and the assistant marching band director. He was a brilliant musician, and offered private lessons to everyone who was having trouble with a piece of music.

Within the next few minutes, the members of the orchestra started trickling into the practice room. A tiny freshman boy holding a trombone case that was almost as big as him staggered into the room and took a seat in the back of the trombone section. Behind him, a tall girl with chin-length sandy blond hair and a slight hunch entered the room. She carried a snare drum on its stand, and proceeded directly to the percussion section in the back of the room.

"Hi Nichole," I said to her.

"Hey," she said, "sup?"

"Thankful that it's the end of the day," I replied.

"You're lucky that your day's over," she grumbled, setting down the drum. "I have soccer practice after school today."

"Have fun," I chuckled. She complained about soccer practice all the time, and claimed that her coach was insane. She clearly had never met Coach Schlater. Nichole knew absolutely nothing of insane coaches and hard, agonizing practices.

More members of the orchestra entered, including my friend and fellow clarinetist Taylor. She waved and took a seat with the other first chair clarinetists two rows in front of me. As she was putting her clarinet together, she turned around to face me.

"Emily seems to be feeling better today," she replied, "and she seems to be back to normal."

"Yeah," I said, looking away from her.

"I wonder what was wrong yesterday," she said, greasing the cork of her mouthpiece.

"I dunno," I lied. I still had reservations about keeping Emily's Jedi powers a secret from our friends. I didn't feel right lying to them like this.

"Yo yo my man Fulger, wazzup?" I heard a guy say in a fake gangster dialect. I looked up and saw my fellow third chair clarinetist Alex walking into the room doing his really bad but funny gangster impression. Behind him, his girlfriend and second chair clarinetist Becca was laughing merrily.

"Yo yo Alex," Mr. Fulger replied without looking up from the sheet music he was reading.

Alex laughed, and he and Becca took their seats in the clarinet section. I laughed as well and proceeded to set up my music.

Behind them, Arleen entered the practice room lugging her cello. "Hi Lia!" she called as she set her cello down by her seat in the cello section. Taylor looked up from reading her music and waved to her. Arleen took an empty seat in the clarinet section and talked to us.

"You guys will never believe this," Arleen said when she sat down. "Emily left in the middle of class again."

"What?" Taylor asked in alarm. "When did this happen?"

"Last period, in the chemistry class we share," Arleen replied, "she just got up and left, and was gone for like twenty minutes."

"The teacher didn't notice?" Taylor asked.

"He didn't seem to," Arleen responded.

"And I just got through saying to Lia that Emily seemed to be back to normal." Taylor replied, tightening the screws on her ligature.

"She's still acting a bit weird," Arleen said, "and quite frankly, I'm a little worried about her."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Taylor answered, "and I'm sure that she'll be back to normal in no time. What do you think, Lia?"

"I dunno," I said quietly, hoping to stay out of the conversation.

Just then, someone dressed in a black trench coat came up behind Arleen and started tapping her head with a pair of drumsticks.

"Liz, will you cut it out?" Arleen cried, covering her head with her hands.

Liz laughed and sat in another empty seat in the clarinet section. "I figured that I'd come visit you guys before class started," she said, "after all, the marching band has practice this period right across the hall."

"We love to have you with us," Taylor said with a smile.

"So, what are you three up to?" Liz asked. "I haven't seen you since lunch, and that was so long ago!" She said the last bit with a tone of sarcasm and laughed again.

"I'm failing Chemistry," Arleen replied, "just found out today."

"That sucks," said Liz, "I'd offer to help you, but I'm failing too, so I'm not exactly a good person to get help from."

"I know," Arleen said, "when I see Emily again I'm going to beg her for help."

"Doesn't she have orchestra with you guys?" Liz asked.

"Yeah," said Taylor.

"I thought so," Liz said. "I wonder where she is."

"Who the hell knows," Taylor said dismissively.

"By the way," said Liz, "a couple of friends and I are going to hang out downtown Friday night, and we would be thrilled if you all came with us."

"Sounds great," Taylor replied. "I'll bring my girlfriend."

"I dunno," said Arleen, "I'll have to get back to you on that."

"What about you, Lia?" Liz asked. "Are you in?"

"Sure," I said. "I never turn down an opportunity to go hang out downtown."

"Sweet!" Liz said, clapping her hands together.

"Gewd afternoon, Monseiur Fulgehr," I heard a girl say in a phony French accent. My friends and I looked toward the door, and saw a mass of pink and blue walk into the practice room. Aurora, wearing a knee-length pink and blue dress, a blue beret, and her pink stilettos, waved to Mr. Fulger as she passed by him. She looked at the lot of us with disdain and turned her nose up in the air. In one hand she held her music folder and her flute case. She removed her rose-colored sunglasses with her other hand and flipped her hair back as she did so. Almost every eye in the practice room focused on her, and the eyes of every guy fell on her breasts, which were bouncing as she walked and were pinned up so high it looked painful. I saw that Taylor and Liz's eyes were on her chest as well, and laughed.

"What?" Liz asked when she saw me looking at her. "She's hot, and I'm bi, so I'm allowed gawk at her."

"You would gawk at a preppie?" I asked. "That's something I never imagined would happen."

"She looks so uncomfortable in that bra," Taylor commented.

"I know," Liz replied, "I didn't think it was possible to jack your boobs up to your chin." We laughed, and Liz placed her hands underneath her own breasts and lifted them up. When she finally got them to the height of Aurora's breasts, a look of disbelief crossed her face. "Ow," she said, "this hurts, a lot."

Taylor placed her clarinet in her lap and tried lifting her own breasts that high. "That is painful," she commented, "I wouldn't last five minutes like this."

"It's important to have good support," Liz said, "but this is ridiculous!"

"Um, guys," Arleen said, "people are staring at you. I think you two should stop."

They complied, but Liz continued to stare at Aurora. "I know she's a preppie," she said, "but damn, she's hot! I think I might ask her out, just to see if she would say yes."

I burst out laughing. I knew Aurora better than all of them, and knew exactly what reaction Liz would get. "I would _love_ to see the look on her face if you did!" I said through my fit of laughter.

"Do you want me to?" Liz asked.

"Would you?" I asked hopefully. "That would make my day!"

"Sure," Liz replied.

"Hurry though," Arleen said, "class is going to start soon."

Liz and I got up and hurried to the flute section on the opposite side of the room. I kept within hearing distance as Liz approached Aurora and stood next to her chair. Aurora looked up with contempt at the goth that dared to be near her.

"Can I 'elp you?" she snorted in her high, squeaky voice.

"I know this is forward of me," Liz said, "but I wanted you to know that I think that you're really pretty."

Aurora turned her nose up and looked very pleased with herself. "Vell thank yew," she said snobbishly.

"And I was also wondering," Liz continued, "will you go out with me?"

A look of horror crossed Aurora's face, and she seemed to choke on her gasp. "Excus-eh moi?" she asked after a brief period of silence.

"Yeah," said Liz, "I would love to get to know you better, and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime."

Aurora's jaw dropped, and one of her wide eyes began to twitch. She looked utterly repulsed, and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing hysterically.

"Of course not!" she squeaked after a while. "I vould never date a gewrl, let alone a freak girl like _yew_!"

Liz pretended to be offended and put her hand to her chest. "Oh baby," she said in fake sadness, "that hurt me deeply."

Aurora gasped in horror and scooted her chair backward. "I am not yewr bebe!" she squealed. "Now get avay from me!"

"Come on," Liz persisted, leaning toward her, "would you at least give me a chance?" She smirked suggestively and added, "you haven't even kissed me yet."

I snorted and began to tremble from the suppressed laughter.

Aurora let out a tiny scream and looked terrified. "I… vould… never…" she sputtered.

"That's too bad," Liz sighed, "but if you ever change your mind, just come and find me. Okay, doll?" She winked and smiled again as she walked away. Ready to burst from laughter, I followed her back to the clarinet section. Once we were on the other side of the room, I let my laughter loose.

"That… was… brilliant!" I gasped in between laughs.

"She's a goddamn homo-phobic," Liz said, glaring in Aurora's direction.

"I take it she wasn't interested," Taylor said.

"Nope," Liz replied, "she was quite rude about it too. She could have just said 'no thank you, I'm straight, so I'm not interested', and I wouldn't have been offended. But nooo, she doesn't seem to know the meaning of 'polite'! That woman is a bitch!"

"I know," I said, rubbing a tear out of my eye, "I hate her. Thank you so much for doing that, Liz. You just made my week!"

"No problem, babe," she said winking at me. Even though I was straight, I let her kiss me lightly on the cheek.

The bell rang, and Liz groaned. "I have to go," she grumbled, "I don't want to, but I'm going."

"Why don't you just skip?" Taylor asked.

"I would skip, believe me," Liz said, "but I'm the only person on the drum line who isn't completely incompetent with a snare drum, so I'm kind of vital." She got up, said a quick good-bye, and left. Arleen got up as well and took her seat with the other cellists.

I glanced over at the violin section and saw that Emily had arrived. She was quickly setting up her music and violin before Mr. Fulger started class. I glanced over at the flute section and caught sight of Aurora, who looked repulsed and ready to cry. I snorted in laughter and had to cover my mouth again to suppress another laughing fit. Still trying not to laugh out loud, I turned back to my sheet music book and opened it to the scales in the back.

"Okay!" Mr. Fulger said, taking an orange baton out of his baton box. "B flat concert scale, half notes please." He held up his baton, and I put my clarinet to my mouth. On his queue, we began to play the scale.

-----

"No, no, no!" Mr. Fulger cried, queuing us to stop. His face was turning a darker shade of violet, and I could tell that he was ready to scream with frustration. "You people are still playing the beginning way too fast! What do you think this is, cut time?" He said something under his breath and put his hand to his forehead. "Listen closely," he said, "I'm going to show you the tempo one more time."

He tapped his foot on the tile floor to the beat of the tempo, and everyone in the room listened carefully and tried to memorize the speed of the beats. "Has everyone got it finally?" he asked. We nodded and he sighed heavily. "Ready?" he asked, raising his baton. "Back to the beginning now, one, two three," he queued us, and we began playing the piece again. Class was almost over, and we had played Bach's Minuet about a hundred times. I thought we sounded fine, but Mr. Fulger was nowhere near satisfied, and wouldn't let us move on to another piece until we had corrected all of our mistakes. The one thing I didn't like about Mr. Fulger was his perfectionism. Perfectionists drove me nuts. Why couldn't something just be good enough?

"ARGH!" Mr. Fulger cried, waving his baton for us to stop. "What do I have to do to get you people to do this right?"

"Per'aps e'eryone jewst needs more practise, Monsieur Fulgehr," Aurora suggested. Taylor wrinkled her nose and mouthed Aurora's words, and I chuckled softly.

"I think so too," Mr. Fulger said, "that is a good idea, Aurora."

Several people moaned, and I heard one of the violists behind me whisper, "yes, thank you, oh holy teacher's pet. It's not like we have anything better to do."

"I want everyone to practice for five hours by Friday," Mr. Fulger said, "and I will be checking your practice logs on Friday as well."

Most of the orchestra and I scowled at Aurora. I looked up at the clock on the wall and thanked God that there was only five minutes left of class.

"Okay guys," Mr. Fulger said, putting his baton away, "I think we've all had enough for today. You can start packing up now."

We complied, and I heard Taylor swear loudly. "God damn it," she said, roughly taking her clarinet apart and shoving the pieces in her case, "I don't have time to practice for five hours! I have a Latin exam on Friday that I have to study for! And guess what? That takes priority over practicing this stupid song which sounds fine as it is!"

"Oh stop whining," I heard Becca respond, "I have two lab reports and an English paper due Friday, and you don't hear me complaining."

Taylor rolled her eyes and shoved her sheet music in her bag.

As I was packing up my clarinet, I saw Emily approach me. She squeezed in between the clarinet and viola sections and came to a stop behind me. She leaned over and whispered, "Lia, can I talk to you alone for a second?" in my ear.

"Um, I guess," I said, putting the last clarinet piece in the case and closing it. I got up and followed Emily to a relatively secluded corner of the room not far from the percussion section. When we stopped, she turned to face me. She looked very annoyed.

"What's up?" I asked.

"That was quite a stunt you did in PE last period," Emily replied, still looking annoyed.

"My, word does travel fast, doesn't it?" I commented, folding my arms.

"I saw you do it," Emily said. "I watched the whole thing in my mind's eye while I meditated during Chemistry."

"Tsk tsk," I laughed, "spacing out during class, how horrible of you!"

"Lia, stop it and be serious!" Emily snapped in annoyance.

"Oh for God's sake!" I cried. "Honestly, I didn't do anything special! I don't know what people find so amazing!"

"You may not think that you did anything special," Emily said, "but believe me, what you did was special. Most people couldn't do something like that without a lot of practice."

"So what are you saying?" I asked.

"I'm saying that the Force is clearly very strong with you-" Emily said. The bell rang and interrupted her. We remained silent as the orchestra filed out of the room. When we were alone, Emily continued, "-because your little stunt was not normal."

A large bubble of excitement and hope swelled in me, and I suppressed a squeal of joy. "The Force is strong with me?" I asked, almost leaping with joy. "Does this mean that I can become a Jedi too? Huh? Does it? Does it?"

Emily sighed and put her hand on my shoulder. "I really hate to say this, Lia," she said, "but even though the Force may be strong with you, it doesn't mean that you are Force-sensitive like me, and only Force-sensitive people can learn the ways of the Force."

My bubble burst, and I glared at her in disappointment. "So the Force may be with me," I grumbled, "but I can't use it? That's not fair!"

Emily shrugged. "You may not be able to use it," she said, "but it is there for you when you need it, like today in PE. The Force works in very mysterious ways."

"I guess…" I sighed. Somehow this didn't surprise me. While I had hoped for a second that I was Force-sensitive like her, I had a gut feeling that I wasn't anything special. I knew in my heart that I was just an average girl who would never be anything special and was destined to lead a normal and boring life. Emily had no idea how lucky she was to be unique. I longed to be special like her. I had always felt that being normal was vastly overrated.

"Anyway, back to what I was originally saying," Emily continued, interrupting my thoughts, "your little stunt attracted a lot of attention. I'm sure the people who witnessed it are already talking about it, especially your friend Russell. I know that you didn't do it intentionally, but I have to ask you to try never to do something like that again. As I said before, most of these people aren't ready to know about the Force's existence. A stunt like yours only arouses suspicion."

"But how do you expect me to avoid doing something like that again when I didn't even realize that I had done something like that in the first place?" I asked, almost not understanding myself.

"Just be aware of the Force's presence with you," Emily said, "and try not to do anything extraordinary again."

"Whatever," I said, "I'll try."

"All I ask is that you try," she said. "Anyway, I hate to cut this short, but I have to go meet Master Seia right after school."

"Who's that?" I asked.

"She is my Master," Emily said, "she's the dark-haired woman you saw me with yesterday. I am her Apprentice, and she is instructing me in the Jedi ways."

"Nice!" I said. "I want to meet her!"

Emily laughed. "I knew you'd say that," she said as she grabbed her book bag and violin, "and yes, I think I can arrange a meeting."

I grabbed my backpack and my clarinet, and we walked out of the classroom and down the hall together.

"That's so cool!" I squealed. "I'm gonna get to meet a real Jedi Master! Maybe she can test the Midi-chlorian count in my blood and see if I'm Force sensitive?"

"You'll have to ask her that yourself," Emily said chuckling.

We rounded a corner and climbed up one flight of stairs to the ground floor. When we came to the first-floor locker area and the main entrance, Emily turned aside and said "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait," I said, grabbing Emily's arm and stopping her from leaving. "There's one more thing I need to talk to you about."

"What?" Emily asked.

"It's about our friends," I said, "they know something's up with you, and they seem very upset at all your secrecy. I'm also finding it difficult to keep this whole Jedi thing a secret from them." I looked into Emily's face, which was void of any emotion. "I really think that you should tell them about this," I continued, "I think that they will be very receptive and open to it, because they are not like most of the people on Earth, and they can keep a secret. They understand what it's like to be different better than anyone, and I think that keeping this Jedi thing a secret from them is just a bad idea. It makes it seem like you don't trust them."

"I can't disobey the Council," Emily replied robotically.

"Then talk to the Council and try to get them to change their minds!" I hissed. "I mean, it's not like you'll be telling the whole world here."

"I will not question the wisdom of the Council," Emily said, "and even though you're not a Jedi, I would advise you to do the same."

I sighed in disgust and let go of Emily's arm. "Fine," I grunted, "but I think that this is a bad idea."

"It is the will of the Council," Emily said. She turned to go. "I have to go now," she said, "have a good afternoon, and may the Force be with you."

My mood instantly lightened. I squealed with joy and bounced up and down. "I have been waiting all day for you to say that!" I cried. "You have no idea how happy hearing a real Jedi say that makes me! Thank you so much for saying that! It makes Star Wars seem so real!"

Emily laughed at my enthusiasm and happiness. "You're welcome," she said with a sweet smile. She waved good-bye and left. I giggled with joy and practically skipped to my locker down the hall. I hummed the Star Wars theme as I dialed the combination. A pair of old gym shorts fell on my head when I opened the door, but instead of getting mad and swearing, I continued to hum and threw them back in.

It looked like this day turned out to be a little better than the last, and I was glad of that.


	10. Casserole

**Chapter 10**

**Casserole**

_**3. Determine three possible sources of error.**_

_One possible source of error was the amount of soluble starch used in the experiment. We may not have measured it to exactly .5 g, and the scales used to measure it may not have been accurate_.

I knew that what I was typing in my lab report was a load of bullshit, but I didn't care. I had missed the entire lab when I went chasing after Emily, so I figured that I was doing my best under the circumstances. I didn't care if I failed the lab report anyway. I was never going to remember this crap. Who needed chemistry, anyway?

I looked up from my computer and stared out the window. It was growing dark outside, and the trees in the backyard were swaying gently in the autumn wind. A few red leaves blew by the window and disappeared from view. The scene was picturesque yet creepy.

My mother called me to dinner. Thankful for an excuse not to work on my lab report, I leapt from my desk and hurried to the kitchen.

The kitchen was full of the heavenly aroma of toasted cheese and chicken. My ginger-haired, blue-eyed mother was standing by the stove and putting on her oven mitts. I took my seat at the small table just as she pulled a casserole dish out of the oven.

"Chicken casserole tonight," she said as she set the dish in the center of the table.

"Yummy!" I said, taking a few spoonfuls of the cheesy goodness. Mom closed the oven, sat down across from me, and served herself some casserole.

"So," she said as we started to eat, "anything new and exciting happen at school?"

"Not really," I lied. I figured that Emily wouldn't want my Mom knowing about the Jedi thing either.

"Nothing?" Mom asked, as if suspecting that I was lying.

"No, how about you?" I asked, trying to get her off the subject of me.

"I had a job shadow at the office today," she said, "a guy that just graduated from Central High last June. Perhaps you know him? His name is Mark Schudel."

"Never heard of him," I replied, pouring myself a glass of orange soda.

"Didn't think you would," Mom continued. "I told him your name showed him your picture, but he didn't know you either."

"Oh no," I groaned, "you didn't show him that collage of me that's sitting on your desk, did you?"

"Yes."

"The one with the baby picture?"

"Yes, why?"

"Oh that's just what I need, my mother showing some random guy my baby picture!"

"What is the big deal?" Mom asked.

"Nothing," I lied.

"What is so wrong with your baby picture?" she asked. "You were so cute as an infant! You had so much bright red hair, and-"

"I looked like a pig when I was born," I complained. "I've seen that picture. I had a pug snout."

"You did not!" Mom protested. "You had the cutest little face and snout in the whole world!"

"You're just bias," I responded.

Mom sighed, smiled, and looked like she was somewhere else. "I remember the day you were born," she said reminiscently.

"Oh no," I said to myself, "here we go again."

"September 15, 9:17 am," she continued, smiling and staring into empty space, "you came three weeks earlier than the doctors predicted, and you were the cutest little thing! The nurses loved the color of your hair. It was so much lighter than it is now. You're starting to take after your father; his hair was a dark red." Her expression darkened when she remembered my father. "That rat bastard," she growled, "left me for a younger woman just two months before you were born, and I never heard from him again."

"I'm kind of glad I didn't know him," I commented.

"What he did was heartless and wrong," Mom continued, "but I didn't need him anyway. I like to think that I managed to raise you just fine on my own."

"You did," I said.

"I had fears at first," Mom replied. "I feared that I wouldn't be able to support you on my income alone. I feared that working wouldn't let me spend enough time with you. After your father left, I was a nervous wreck, and I was even worse right after you were born." She took a bite of casserole and continued. "I remember this bizarre dream I had the night after you were born. I dreamt that there were three people standing in my hospital room. They were all wearing brown robes, one was a woman, and one didn't even look human. They were talking about taking you away from me, and said something about killing you while they still had the chance." She shuddered. "It scared the daylights out of me. It didn't even seem like a dream, and for almost a day afterward I was convinced that it really happened. But once I calmed down, I realized that it was just a paranoid dream."

"That's odd," I said in between bites.

"I had nightmares all the time," she added, "they started when I was about seven months pregnant, right after your father left, and continued through the first month after you were born. About half were of horrible things like war, pain, suffering, and anger. Things calmed down eventually, but my fears for you did flare up again when you first went to kindergarten."

"I remember that," I said, "you were paranoid that I was going to get beat up by the other kids, or kidnapped, or I wasn't going to fit in. You almost didn't let me go."

Mom laughed. "Yeah, I guess I was paranoid," she admitted, "but what mother wouldn't be? You'll understand when you have children."

I snorted. I had no intentions of having children. "Well, you didn't have to worry about any of those," I said, "even the bit about fitting in. I met a friend my first day there."

"I remember," Mom said, "and you and Emily have been best friends ever since."

"I actually remember that day," I said, beginning to reminisce myself. "The teacher sat Emily and I next to each other when we were drawing pictures. I remember that my colored pencil broke, and I asked Emily if I could borrow her pencil sharpener. After that, we got talking about each other's drawings, and we became friends almost immediately."

"I'm surprised that you remember all that," Mom remarked.

"Me too," I replied.

"It's amazing how much time has passed since then," Mom said almost sadly. "It may seem like a million years to you, but your childhood has passed in a blink of an eye for me. It seems only yesterday I was playing peek-a-boo with my baby daughter, and now you are almost grown up. Now you're old enough to drive, and eventually you'll go to college, be dating, and working, and you'll move out someday and get a place of your own."

"That isn't for a long time," I said, "I'm not even thinking about that stuff right now. All I want to do is pass tenth grade."

"You were so cute when you were little," Mom said, evidently not listening to me, "I dressed you as a pumpkin for your first Halloween, and for your first Christmas, I got you a sandbox. You loved that sandbox. You used to play in it all the time until you were almost seven, when you got too big for it." She laughed and looked teary-eyed. "I hung a rope swing on one of the lower branches of that maple tree out back, and you and Emily used to take turns pushing each other on it. She was over here so much she practically lived here part time."

"I remember," I laughed.

"You had such a happy childhood," Mom said, putting her head in her hand and resting her elbow on the table. "I look back on it, and I miss that cheerful, happy-go-lucky little girl you used to be."

"Hey!" I retorted. "I'm cheerful! I'm not depressed or angst! I'm just as happy as I ever was!"

"Oh you're happy," Mom said, "don't get me wrong. But you're troubled by so much now. There are so many things in your life that cause you stress, unlike before, when you were ignorant of the world and had nothing to be stressed or worried about. I guess it's just part of life."

"Life sucks," I said, "I would love to be a kid again, and not have a care in the world."

"Wouldn't we all," Mom said with a laugh.

I looked across the table at my mother. I loved and admired her so much. She worked so hard to support me, and yet she still had time to be there for me whenever I needed her, in both the good times and bad. She was my companion, my family, my mentor, and my role model. I longed to be as strong, successful, and as good a person as her. We had our fights, and I got furious at her at times, but overall we were very close. After all, we were all each other had.

The phone rang and interrupted our conversation. "Oh for crying out loud!" Mom complained. "Right in the middle of dinner!" She looked at the caller ID and frowned. "It's the office," she said, "I'm sorry Lia, but I have to take this."

"No problem," I said as Mom answered the phone. She was one of those desk zombies that worked the midday and afternoon shift at the corporation in town, and often got calls at home when the person who took over for her during the evening had a problem.

Mom left the room to talk, and I finished my casserole. I cleaned up from dinner, turned the kitchen light off, and went back to my room to finish my lab report.

At about one in the morning, I finished the last of my homework that was due the next day. The math problems took exceptionally long, and the lab report questions and calculations took forever as well.

Mom had gone to bed hours ago, so I tiptoed to the bathroom and washed up as quietly as possible. When I finished washing my face and teeth, I tiptoed back to my room, quickly changed into my X-wing fighter PJs, and fell into bed. I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow, and eventually began to dream.

I found myself in my Chemistry classroom. The classroom was empty except for Liz, Katherine, and Janet. Liz was only wearing a bra and a pair of jeans, and was lounging on one of the lab counters. Janet held a Reichu in her arms, which was emitting sparks and burning everything around it. I was jumping up and down trying to reach a lightsaber that was hanging from the ceiling. Katherine was standing next to me looking furious.

"If you don't get Emily's lightsaber," she warned, "we're never talking to you again!"

"Give it back!" I heard Emily scream from inside the locked science supply closet on the far side of the room.

"Everyone else has already bought back their friendship!" Katherine barked. "Liz even gave up her shirt for us, and look at all these Pokemon cards Janet gave me!" She took handfuls of Pokemon cards out of her jeans pockets and threw them at me. They fluttered to the ground like snowflakes, and Katherine continued to throw more cards at me.

"I'm trying!" I cried, trying to jump higher.

"That's not good enough," Liz said, reaching behind her back. She undid her bra and tossed it at Katherine. "Here!" she cried. "For the friendship!"

"See?" Katherine yelled. "Look how generous Liz is!"

"Liz is just a pervert who likes to go topless!" I snapped.

"Whee!" Liz cried, rolling off the table.

"Reichu, thundershock!" Janet cried, tossing her Reichu in the air.

The Reichu obeyed just as I jumped high enough to grab the lightsaber. I drew the lightsaber and absorbed the Pokemon's electric energy in the glowing magenta blade. As I held the lightsaber, the blade slowly turned red.

The scene faded to darkness, and I found myself walking down a hall with white metal walls. I was alone, and was searching for something. The scene was very familiar.

A cloaked figure carrying a limp body approached me. I drew my blue lightsaber. I looked into the face of the person the figure was carrying, and realized that it was definitely Emily. She looked to be asleep. I hoped that she was only asleep.

The figure put Emily down and approached me. I was paralyzed in fear. I dropped my lightsaber, and it fell to the ground and retracted with a loud clatter. I took a step back, but the figure continued to approach me. I stumbled and fell. I looked up into the figure's hood in terror. When the figure was only a few feet from me, I saw that it was a very tall man. I squinted into the darkness of the hood but couldn't see a face. The figure approached closer and closer. I wanted nothing more than to leave this place. I wanted to get out of here.

I seemed to will myself to wake up, because the next thing I knew, I was back in my bedroom. I sat up abruptly. I had broken into a cold sweat and was breathing heavily. I looked at my alarm clock and saw that it was 4:30 in the morning. I was exhausted, but was too scared to go back to sleep. That dream and that figure were both so frightening.

When I calmed down, I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to make sense of what had just happened. I had had the exact same dream the night before. The dreams weren't just similar; they were identical. The dream was so terrifying, and the fact that I had the same dream two nights in a row greatly disturbed and concerned me.

Since it involved the world of Star Wars, I considered telling Emily about it and asking what it meant. She was probably the only person I knew who would be able to make sense of this.

I debated with myself for a while over whether to consult Emily or not. I seriously considered both options, and in the end decided to only consult her if the dream continued to recur. If it didn't, I was going to leave it alone and dismiss it as a common nightmare.

Once I made my decision, I lay my head back on the pillow and tossed the covers over my body. It took me a while to relax, but I eventually drifted back into an uneasy sleep.


	11. Invasion

**Chapter 11**

**Invasion**

Luckily, I didn't dream anything memorable for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, the lack of sleep made me sleep through my alarm, and I didn't wake up until around 7:30 when Mom yelled at me to get up. After much cursing and scrambling around, I stormed out of the house and sped off to school on my bike.

I nearly tripped over myself as I ran down the hall and stormed into room 224 just after the bell rang. Mrs. Duble looked extremely annoyed and said, "Amelia, one of these days I am going to give you a detention for tardiness just to teach you a lesson about being prompt!" She pointed to my seat and added, "now move!"

I obeyed and scrambled to my seat. All around, people were laughing at me. This was embarrassing.

I sat down at my desk and got out my supplies for class. I was exhausted, and I felt miserable. I absolutely despised mornings.

"You look terrible," Katherine said, looking concerned. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said with a yawn.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" Katherine asked.

"About six hours," I replied, "but I had nightmares, so I didn't really rest."

"What kind of nightmares?" Caitlyn asked.

"Stupid ones that I can't really remember," I lied. "But they were just dreams, and now I'm back in reality safe and sound."

I felt eyes boring into the left side of my head, and looked over to see Emily staring at me intensely. She turned away when she saw me staring back at her. Could she read minds? Did she know about my dream?

"Before we begin," Mrs. Duble said, rising from her desk, "I'd like to point out the newest additions to our class." I looked around. I hadn't noticed anyone new when I walked in, but then again, I hadn't been paying attention to anything around me. When I looked closely around the classroom, I found that the ordinarily empty desks around the room were filled with people I didn't recognize.

"I'd like to introduce our new foreign exchange students from Europe," Mrs. Duble continued. "Would you five like to introduce yourselves?"

A girl with short chestnut brown hair and green eyes stood up. "I am Kabea Hunst," she said, bowing her head slightly. As she bowed her head, I caught a glimpse of a thin braid on the right side of her head. It almost looked like a Padawan braid.

A guy with black hair a few desks behind her stood up. I gasped when I saw that he too had a Padawan braid hanging from the right side of his head. He introduced himself as Mader Rettoy and sat down. Another guy stood up, and he too grew his ginger hair in a Padawan braid.

"I am Thykos Laache," the redhead said with a bow.

A blonde guy at the front of the room stood up, and I saw that he was wearing a Padawan braid as well. He introduced himself as Bryce Tasyr.

"I am Galon Eldcor," a guy with auburn curls and a Padawan braid a few desks to my left replied. He smiled, bowed, and sat down.

I looked over at Caitlyn. She turned to me and whispered, "what is with the braids?"

"You noticed it too?" I asked.

"Yeah!" Caitlyn said. "Is it some kind of European custom, or are they all members of some Star Wars fan club?"

_Or are they real Padawans?_ I asked myself. I looked over at Emily and mouthed "what the hell?" at her. Her face remained expressionless, and I heard her voice say, "I'll explain later" inside my head. I sighed heavily, rolled my eyes, and turned to the front of the room.

"We are pleased to have you all with us in class," Mrs. Duble said to the exchange students, "and I think the entire class will join me in saying 'Welcome to the United States'."

"I think the one with the black hair is cuter," I heard Lita say. I looked over and saw Lita and Katherine staring at the foreign guys with dreamy looks in their eyes.

"No way!" Katherine said. "The blonde is the cutest! I mean, look at him! He's so… hot."

"But the one with the black hair looks so much like Orlando Bloom!" Lita squeaked. "I mean, look at him! He has the same dark eyes too!"

They sighed and smiled dreamily. I glanced over at Caitlyn, who held her head in disbelief. They were acting like preppies!

Mrs. Duble began making her homework-checking rounds around the classroom. I was glad that I had my homework today, and I got it out of my math folder and stared at it with pride.

"Aren't you Miss Studious this week?" Caitlyn asked, leaning over to look at my homework.

"You're not even going to pretend that you did it?" I asked, noticing that she wasn't madly scribbling random numbers in her notebook.

"Nah," she said, "there's no point. Mrs. Duble always sees through it. Besides, I don't care about my grade anymore."

"Caitlyn," I said, almost sounding like Katherine, "it's not even the end of September, and you've given up _already_? That's not good, you know."

"I know," Caitlyn replied, doodling swirls in her notebook absentmindedly, "I'll probably start doing homework later in the semester so I can at least pass. But I don't feel like doing math right now, so I'm not going to."

"That blonde is so hot!" Katherine sighed to herself.

"Oh will you snap out of it?" I spat, kicking Katherine's foot. "You're starting to sound like Liz!"

"Can you blame me?" she asked. "Just look at him! He's so cute!"

"I think they're handsome," Caitlyn said, "but you don't see me drooling over them like a sap!"

"Kathy, you can take the blonde if you want," Lita interrupted, "just leave the black-haired one for me, kay?"

"They're not objects to be bartered!" Caitlyn groaned.

"Caitlyn's right!" I said, nudging Katherine's foot again. "Now snap out of it!"

Mrs. Duble made her way over Lita's row, and her presence brought them back to their senses.

"Oh Liz is going to have a field day if she sees these guys," Caitlyn commented, "I can see her hitting on them now."

"I know," I replied, picturing the scene and laughing. "We'll just have to keep them away from her."

"I don't see how we're going to be able to," Caitlyn said, shrugging, "she can probably smell their good looks all the way from the other building."

I laughed and covered my mouth to keep myself quiet. Caitlyn laughed as well, and turned her attention to her doodle, which was turning into an artistic masterpiece.

As I waited for Mrs. Duble to reach my desk, I looked around at the new students. They were all staring at me, and Kabea had a suspicious look on her face. I looked at each of them quizzically, and they each turned away when I looked at them. It was very annoying. They were as bad as Emily.

Mrs. Duble checked my homework and pestered me yet again to seek extra help. She then proceeded to Caitlyn, and stared at her irritably over the top of her glasses.

"Caitlyn," she said, "you haven't done a single homework assignment all semester. You are barely passing with a D right now, but if you don't start doing your homework, you're not going to pass the class." She folded her arms. "Are you ever going to do your homework, or are you going to let yourself fail?" she asked.

"I'm going to start," Caitlyn replied.

Mrs. Duble nodded at her and moved on to the next person. Caitlyn made a face at the back of Mrs. Duble's head, and when Mrs. Duble was out of hearing range, Caitlyn whispered "when I damn well feel like it!"

When Mrs. Duble finished checking everyone's homework, she went to the board and began her lecture. I rested my head against the desk. I was glad that Katherine was too busy staring at the blonde to notice that I wasn't paying attention, and I figured that maybe I could catch up on some of the sleep I didn't get the night before.

I hated having math first period. First period classes met every day of the school week, and it was just my luck to have my worst class first period. I hated waking up every goddamn weekday morning to Mrs. Duble's Algebra lectures. I hated always having a ton of math homework due the next day, and I was so tired of math that I wanted to scream. I was never going to use this crap in the real world! There was no point to it! Why was I required to take this class?

As Mrs. Duble droned on, I tried to doze off, but was so overtired that I remained wide-awake. I let my eyes wander around the room. I looked at each of the exchange students. Katherine and Lita were right; the guys were extremely hot. But they made me a little edgy for some reason.

I glanced over at Emily. For once, she was staring at the board and wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to me. I sighed with relief and made myself more comfortable. I closed my eyes and tried to will myself to doze off. I hoped that Mrs. Duble wouldn't notice me napping, but then again, I really didn't care if she did.

After a while, I finally started to relax. I didn't fall asleep, but I wasn't fully awake either. I seemed to be hovering in some state in between.

Mrs. Duble's words were incoherent, and for a moment, it felt like I was alone in the room. My mind gradually went blank, and my muscles, sore from the daily bike rides, began to relax. I felt good, and hoped that no one would interrupt my relaxation.

As I floated in my semi-conscious state, I thought I heard a voice, belonging neither to the teacher nor any of the students. I strained my ears to hear what the voice was saying, and heard a male voice whisper, "turn away from them. Come back to me."

_Who are you?_ My mind's voice asked the unseen male. _What are you talking about?_

"Come back to me."

_What the hell?_

"Snap out of it!" I heard Emily shout inside my head. Startled, I jarred awake and snapped up into a sitting position. Slightly disoriented, I turned to Emily, and saw her glaring at me. I felt other eyes boring into me, and looked around to find all of the exchange students staring at me as well.

_What the hell is going on?_ I asked myself. Honestly, things were just getting weirder and weirder by the day.

Emily _so_ owed me an explanation later.

-----

When I walked into my English classroom, I was stunned to find all five of the foreign exchange students sitting among my usual classmates. Aurora was waving at one of the male exchange students and sticking out her chest vulgarly. Her pink, low-cut shirt displayed so much cleavage that I was surprised the teachers didn't give her a detention for it. However, the guy ignored her and immediately looked at me as I entered. Aurora saw that his attention was elsewhere and followed his gaze. Her eyes fell on me, and she sneered in annoyance and revolt. I glared at her as I sat down in my seat.

" 'ey Ameeleea," she said in a falsely-sweet tone, "vhy don't yew offer yewr seat to one of zee new stoodents?"

"With pleasure," I growled.

"Oh Mademoiselle Koehne!" Aurora called, waving at the teacher. "Ameeleea offers 'er seat to one of zee new stoodents, if any of zem needs a place to sit."

"That's quite all right, Amelia," Miss Koehne replied, "everyone is fine where they are."

Aurora growled softly and folded her arms across her chest, which only pressed her breasts together and created more cleavage.

The bell rang, and everyone went back to their seats and waited for class to begin. I glanced over at Dylan, who was staring at Kabea. I glared at him. For some reason, I didn't like him staring at her.

"Okay class," Miss Koehne said, sounding like a kindergarten teacher, "we have some new students with us today. So I was thinking that maybe we should play the name game so everyone can get to know each other."

I rolled my eyes. We had played the name game twice at the beginning of the school year. It was so pointless and stupid, because even after we played it, no one knew each other's names. And on top of it all, no one cared to learn everyone's names. Oh well. It was better than doing schoolwork.

"Okay everyone," Miss Koehne continued, taking a seat in one of the empty desks, "say your name and something about yourself, and say what every person that came before you said. I'll go first. Hello, I'm Sheryl Koehne, and I am a vegetarian. Now, Amanda, you go next."

The girl to the teacher's right cleared her throat and said, "I'm Amanda, and I play basketball. This is Sheryl Koehne, and she is a vegetarian."

"Hi, I'm Mary," the tiny African-American girl to Amanda's right said, "and I play the violin. This is Amanda, and she plays basketball. This is Sheryl Koehne, and she is a vegetarian."

"Uh, I'm Matt," the jock to Mary's right said, "and I play basketball too. This is Mary, and she- uh, what do you do again?"

"Now Matt," Miss Koehne said, "the point is to remember what people say. Now think carefully. What did Mary say about herself?"

"Uh," Matt said, clearly not caring, "you… play the… oboe?"

"I play the violin," Mary replied.

"Oh yeah, right," Matt said, "and Amanda plays basketball, and Mrs. Koehne is a veterinarian."

"Vegetarian," Amanda corrected.

"Oh, right," Matt said.

I looked over at one of the exchange students. He clearly looked confused, and was probably wondering what the point of all this was.

The name game was taking a long time. People weren't listening to each other, and consequently took forever to recite all the names and facts of the people that came before them.

"Hi," Eun Sun said, "I'm Eun Sun, and I'm Korean. This is Jacqueline, and she likes to read. This is Ian, and he plays basketball. This is Chelsea, and she also plays basketball. This is…"

After a few more minutes, it was one of the exchange students' turn. The girl said, "I'm Kabea Hunst, and I like to run. This is Jeremy, and he wants to be historian. This is…"

By the time it was Aurora's turn, there were so many people who came before me that I knew it was going to be impossible to remember them all. I didn't even know or care about any of them!

"Bonjour," Aurora said, waving and giggling at the class. "Je m'appelle Aurora, and I'm-"

"A Prima Donna princess," I grumbled under my breath.

"-French," Aurora continued, "and zis iz Nick, and ee plays basketball… my, zere sure are a lot of basketball players in 'ere, aren't zere?" She giggled and continued, "and zis iz Mader Rettoy, and ee enjoys volunteer work. And zis iz…"

The list continued, and the more she talked, the more her fake accent got on my nerves. When it was my turn, I sighed and said, "I'm Amelia, and I love Star Wars." Aurora grimaced in disgust, but I ignored her. "This is Aurora, and she's French." I looked at the guy next to Aurora. "And you play… basketball?"

"Who's 'you'?" Miss Koehne asked.

"Um, Nick?" I asked.

"That's right," Miss Koehne replied.

"And you're Mader Rettoy, and you enjoy volunteer work." I looked at the girl next to Mader, and couldn't remember her name or her fact for the life of me.

"And I have no idea who you are," I said.

"I'm Lisa," she said.

"Oh right!" I said. "And you…"

"Play the clarinet," she said, looking annoyed. "I'm in the orchestra with you!"

The class laughed, and I turned red. "Oh, right," I said, "now I remember you."

I continued down the list, and only got a few right the first time. "Amanda plays basketball, and Sheryl Koehne is a vegetarian," I said with a sigh. I was thankful that my turn was over.

"Hey," Dylan said, "I'm Dylan, and I like Italian food. Amelia likes Star Wars. Aurora is French. Nick plays basketball. Mader volunteers. Lisa plays clarinet…" He continued, and to my surprise, he remembered everyone. He was being one of the more attentive students for a change.

Half an hour had passed by the time it was the last few students' turns. "I'm Emily," Emily replied, "and I-"

I half-hoped that she would say she was a Jedi. I hoped that she had talked to the Council, and that they had decided to reveal the secret.

"-play the violin as well," Emily continued. My heart sank. I knew that she wouldn't reveal her secret, but damn it, I was tired of the secrecy! "Bryce is good at chess," Emily continued. "Laura is Scottish. Thykos has three brothers. Amy is on the crew team. Audrey likes to write. Galon is good at math…"

After the last person went, Miss Koehne applauded. "Well done, everyone," she said, standing up and grinning. "I hope everyone has gotten to know each other a little better." She went to the front of the classroom and continued, "and now, I have some good news. We're getting our first assigned book today!" Several people including myself groaned. Great, just what I needed, an assigned book to read. As if I didn't have _enough_ on my plate as it was.

"We're going to be reading The Scarlet Letter," Miss Koehne said, pulling her keys out of her bag, "now if you'll all follow me to the supply closet, I will give you your books!"

Groaning, we stood up and trudged down the hall after her. The exchange students all walked near me, and I quickened my pace to try and lose them. I felt uncomfortable around them. They were always staring at me!

However, the exchange students quickened their paces and continued to walk near me, which made me more uncomfortable than ever. Why were they following me?

"So, dude," I heard Matt say to one of them, "what's with the braids?"

"It's a custom where we're from," Bryce replied.

"What's the point?" Matt asked.

"It symbolizes that we're teenagers," Kabea replied. I looked at her, and she looked back at me emotionlessly. I shuddered. Out of all of them, she made me feel the most uncomfortable.

"That's so weird," Matt replied.

Nearby, Eun Sun glared at him. "Matt," she said, "that's not very nice. Just because you're not familiar with a custom doesn't mean that it's 'weird'. It may be weird to you, but it's perfectly normal to them!"

"Jeez," Matt said, "sorry."

We arrived at the supply closet, and Miss Koehne let us inside. We formed a line, and the teacher gave us each a book.

A guy further behind me in line said, "do you think she knows?"

"Not everything," I heard Emily reply. I turned around, and saw her talking to Bryce. Both of them were staring at me, and I made a funny face at Emily and turned around. I waddled to the back of the supply closet with the rest of the class and received my copy of the book. Well, it was only a book in an abstract sense. It was made of paper and had once consisted of pages. Now it was more like a pile of yellowed papers stuck together. The ends of the pages were ratty, some of the pages had huge tears or corners missing, and the back cover and half of the front cover were torn off. The glue of the binding was coming off, and someone had supplemented the deteriorating binding with Scotch Tape. I opened what was left of the front cover and found that someone had written "Hester fucks priest, the end" in large blue letters on the inside cover.

We left the supply closet and returned to the classroom. After our adventure to the supply closet all the way at the other end of the hall, the class was more talkative than usual. No one listened to Miss Koehne as she tried to teach us the historical context of the book, and Aurora yelled at nearby people several times to stop talking. Miss Koehne eventually gave up on her lesson and told us to read for the rest of class.

While the students talked to each other and pretended to be reading, Dylan and I got into our inevitable fight. This time, the fight was about something dumber than usual.

"I'm telling you," Dylan said, "the 'a' in 'apricot' is pronounced like the 'a' in 'April'!"

"And I'm telling you," I responded, "that it's pronounced like the 'a' in 'apple'!"

"No it's not!" Dylan said.

"Yes it is!" I spat.

"Look," Dylan replied, "I know how to pronounce my fruit, and it's pronounced 'apricot', like 'April'."

"Oh 'oo cares?" Aurora suddenly interrupted, looking very annoyed. This was odd. She never intervened in our fights.

"Stay out of this," I warned. The last person I wanted to deal with in my annoyed state was that bitch.

"Vhy do you even eat zose zings anyvay?" she asked me with a sneer. "Do yew know 'ow many calories are in zose?" She looked me up and down and snorted. "And it's not like yew need zem."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I snapped. My hands curled into fists under my desk, and I felt my nails digging into my palms painfully.

"Vhat are yew, like, a size eight?' she asked in disgust.

"Ten," I said.

"Oh my God!" Aurora said, looking revolted. "You're even more obese than I thought!"

My eyes widened in a wild rage, and I wailed in anger and made to lunge at her. However, some invisible force blocked my path, and I was unable to even lean forward.

"That's not nice!" Dylan said to her. "She is _not_ obese, and a size ten is not large! So stop exaggerating!"

"Oh but it is," Aurora answered, "I mean, look at her, she's practically too big for zat desk."

I growled again and tried to break free of the invisible force blocking my path. I must have had a murderous look on my face, because Aurora scooted back in fear.

"Calm yourself," I heard someone say. I looked over and saw Mader staring at me, looking scared but stern. "Sedate your anger," he continued, "control your emotions."

I looked around, and found that all of the exchange students and Emily were staring at me, looking very worried and a little scared. I turned back to Aurora and glared at her.

"Lia is not fat!" Dylan snapped. "So shut up!"

"You, on the other hand," I growled to Aurora, "are so thin you look like a coat hanger with hair." Aurora looked horrified, and I smiled maliciously. Insulting her felt good, and I continued, "you're so thin and frail, I could snap you like the twig you are. And another thing, you should try wearing a normal bra for a change, because that one makes you look deformed. Not even Barbie Dolls have breasts that high."

Aurora's eye was twitching, and she looked ready to either scream or start crying. I hoped she would cry. I wanted her to suffer. I loved every minute of this.

"And that accent," I added, "you should just give it up. It's so fake it's disgusting."

"Zis iz natural!" Aurora squeaked.

"Bull shit," I said, "it's faker than fake, and you know it. I've known it for a long time, but haven't said anything because I enjoy hearing you make yourself sound like an idiot."

Aurora's jaw dropped, and her eye twitched more than ever.

"Control yourself!" Mader pestered.

"Stay the hell out of this!" I snapped, shooting him a glare. He shut up immediately.

"Children," Miss Koehne said, "what is going on?"

"Nothing," I said, "our conversation is over."

I turned away from Aurora, opened my book, and started to read. I was too distracted to make it past the first few words, and I couldn't wait until the end of class.

---------------------------------------

**Author's Note:** Yay for part 11! Hope you like this new development in the story.

By the way, I don't know if any of you noticed, but I wrote a Star Wars poem called "A Star Wars Christmas Eve." It's dedicated to all you readers and fans of this Star Wars fanfic. Just thought I'd mention it. I had no intentions of offending anyone who is not Christian with a Christmas poem, and I'm very sorry if it does offend anyone. It may not, and it'll probably be funny even to those who aren't Christian.


	12. Raging Hormones

**Author's Note**: This is just a disclaimer. This chapter is one of the reasons this fanfic is rated M. No offense is intended, so please don't yell at me. This is just how my characters are, and I will not sensor them.

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**Chapter 12**

**Raging Hormones**

I was still fuming mad when I got to lunch. Looking at food made me feel sick to my stomach. I knew that I wasn't fat, but Aurora's comment nevertheless stung me and made me lose my appetite.

I purchased a sandwich and bottle of water and headed to my table. I slammed my tray on the table, ripped open the plastic sleeve covering my sandwich, took a bite, and felt sick.

Ann saw the pissed off look on my face and asked what was wrong.

"Do you guys think I'm fat?" I asked.

My friends look confused. "What? Of course not!" Katherine immediately said.

"No way!" Lita cried.

"Hon, you're not fat at all," Amara said from a chair at the other end of the table.

"You're a lot thinner than I am," Janet said.

"What brought this up?" Taylor asked.

"Some preppie bitch said I was obese," I replied, poking holes in my Styrofoam lunch tray with my finger.

"What?" all of my friends cried.

"Which preppie?" Arleen asked.

"Tell me who it was," Liz said, suddenly looking very pissed. "I'm gonna kick her ass!"

"Aurora Jones," I growled through gritted teeth.

"Oh, wait," Liz said, "is that the homo-phobic twig with the jacked-up boobs from yesterday?"

"The same," I said.

"I'm gonna pound the shit out of that little fucker!" Liz cried.

"So am I!" Amara said, punching the palm of her left hand. "You and me, Liz, after school!"

Liz punched her left hand and nodded aggressively.

"Fucking bitch!" Caitlyn said from behind her laptop.

"Lia," Kristen said, looking up from her book for a change, "don't listen to her. She's just full of it."

"Yeah," Ann replied, "don't let her get to you."

I beamed and thanked them. I loved my friends. Even though they were strange, and a few were obnoxious, they were always so supportive, and were always there for one another.

They spent the next few minutes sympathizing with me and trying to make me feel better. I was already feeling better after a while, but Liz decided that she needed to do more to cheer me up.

She opened her carton of chocolate milk and inserted the straw. She put her nostril to the straw and blew, causing the milk to bubble. The brown bubbles spilled over the sides of the carton and dripped onto the table. A couple of the girls cried out in disgust.

"Liz, that's gross!" Katherine shouted. Liz laughed hysterically, and I couldn't help but laugh as well. Liz blew bubbles with her nose again, and I laughed some more.

At that moment, someone came up behind me. I turned around and saw Emily and all five of the foreign exchange students standing near the table holding their lunch trays. I turned back to the table and saw all of the girls except Caitlyn gaping at them. Katherine and Lita looked overjoyed and dreamy, and Kristen looked up from her book and stared at one of the guys. Liz, whose nose was still against the straw, had a face that was frozen in an expression that resembled disbelief and desire. Her mouth was half-open, and the tip of her tongue hung out of her mouth.

I turned back to Emily and said, "Hey, Em. I see you've brought some friends."

"Yes," Emily said, "everyone, these are foreign exchange students. I was wondering if they could sit here."

Liz, Katherine, Lita, and Amara leapt out of their seats so fast that I jumped. "Here!" they said. "You can have these seats!"

"Oh, we can't kick you out of your seats," Bryce said with a smile. I thought Katherine and Liz were going to faint from happiness.

"Yeah," Mader replied, "where will you sit?"

"That's not important," Amara said, "just sit!"

They each grabbed one guy by the shoulders and forced them to sit in the vacant seats. Taylor, who was smiling at Kabea, stood up and offered her seat to her. Emily took the vacant seat next to me.

"Come on guys," Liz said, gesturing to the other four to follow her. "Let's go beat up some preppies and steal their chairs!"

"Sounds great!" Amara said. "Let's go!"

"And maybe we can kick the shit out of that Aurora bitch while we're at it!" Liz offered.

"Yeah," Amara said, "granted that she's even here. I don't even know who she is."

They left, and the exchange students looked surprised and a little horrified. Those that were left at the table smiled at the exchange students and watched them eat. The four guys kept glancing at the staring girls and looked a little uncomfortable.

"So," Arleen said to Thykos. "What brings you to the U.S.?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Janet asked. "They're here to study."

"Hey," Arleen retaliated, "I'm just trying to make conversation!"

Galon, who was sitting in Liz's usual seat, looked over at Caitlyn's laptop and stared at it as if he had never seen a laptop before. Caitlyn noticed him staring and asked, "can I help you?"

"No, that's all right," he said, turning away and continuing to eat his sandwich.

"So," Mader, who was sitting in Katherine's seat to my right, said to me, "have you calmed down yet?"

"If you must know, yes," I said bluntly.

"Good," Mader replied, "anger is a dangerous emotion to let rave uncontrolled."

"You can't blame her for getting angry, though," Ann said in my defense, "she was hurt pretty badly."

"I know," Mader said sympathetically, "and anger is inevitable in a situation like that. But anger is a quick path to the-"

"Okay, we're back!" Liz bellowed as she, Amara, Katherine, Lita, and Taylor returned, carrying chairs. Taylor placed her chair between and Emily and Kabea, and the other three placed their chair next to their favorite guy. Liz put her chair between Caitlyn and Galon, and Lita placed herself between Mader and myself. I was relieved that there was some distance between him and me. The whole lot of them made me feel edgy.

"So," Liz said to Galon, "what's your name?" She placed her elbow on the table, put her chin in her palm, and stared at him dreamily. Caitlyn, feeling crowded and looking annoyed, scooted farther to the right.

"Galon Eldcor," he replied nervously.

"Oh that is such a cute name!" Liz said, leaning closer. Galon leaned backward and glanced nervously at Emily.

"How long will you be staying with us?" Amara asked Thykos. She smiled and nudged him.

"Uh, a while," he said.

"Excellent!" Lita said, clapping her hands and bouncing in her seat.

"Well," Liz said, "if you five want to sit at this table with us, there are a few certain rules that you must follow."

"Rules?" Kabea asked. "What kind of rules?"

"Ladies!" Liz said, grabbing her milk carton and placing it in front of her. "Time to recite the Lunch Table Rules!"

We all got our drinks and placed them in front of us.

"Rule one!" Liz said loudly. "You must be disdained by the preps and/or be classified as a freak or a geek. Rule two…"

"No emos!" we all cried. We all pounded our drinks on the table three times, and the exchange students looked confused.

"Rule three," Amara continued, "you must skip class at least once during your high school career. Emily, here, has just fulfilled this rule."

"I told you," Emily said irritably, "I was not skipping-"

"Rule four…" Liz said, drowning her out.

"No emos!" we shouted again. We pounded our drinks on the table three times again.

"Rule five," Taylor said, "whether or not you follow fashion is your choice."

"But you can only follow Gothic fashion," Liz added, "no other type of fashion will be tolerated. We don't want anyone turning into fashion divas or preppies…"

"Rule six…" Amara said.

"No emos!" we shouted. We banged our drinks three times again, and some of my water splashed out of the bottle and soaked my tray.

"Rule seven," Caitlyn said, "if you come to the table bearing any kind of sappy romance or chick flick book or movie, or if you talk about one of those things admirably, you will immediately be kicked off the table."

"Literally kicked," Liz added.

"Rule eight…" I said.

"No emos!" we cried with three bangs of our drinks.

"Rule nine," Janet said, "there will be no preps, sexists-"

"Sci-Fi haters," I added"

"Racists," Amara added.

"Homo-phobics," Taylor added.

"Assholes," Arleen said.

"Back-stabbers," Ann chimed in.

"Bitches," Caitlyn added.

"Or know-it-alls," Kristen said, "though having a brain is encouraged."

"And last but not least…" Liz said.

"NO FUCKING EMOS!" we all yelled, slamming our drinks once on the table.

"Amen!" Taylor said.

"Okaaay," Kabea said with an expression that screamed "these people are so weird!"

"So," Amara said, "you all haven't introduced yourselves yet. I'm Amara."

We all introduced ourselves, and once everyone was acquainted, the stupid conversations began. Katherine and Lita spent the whole time drooling over their favorite exchange student, and Amara kept raising her eyebrows at Thykos. Liz leaned so close to Galon that she was practically on top of him, and she kept talking into his ear.

"Yeah, almost everyone here wants to get a tattoo," Taylor said, "we all plan on getting tattoos on our eighteenth birthdays."

"And we're all going to go with each other when we get them," Amara added. "Lia's birthday is earliest, so she will get the honor of being the first one to get her tattoo."

I smiled broadly.

"What do you want to get tattoos of?" Bryce asked.

"I'm getting a rose with blood dripping from its thorns," Taylor said.

"I'm thinking of either a winged, flaming skull or the Japanese symbol for ninja," Liz said, "maybe both."

"A Celtic knot for me," Ann said, blushing.

"I'm getting two eventually," Caitlyn said, "one of Jack from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and another of GIR in his dog outfit from Invader Zim."

"I'm getting a pretty design of flowers, ribbon, and lace," Arleen said with a smile.

"I'm getting a picture of Reichu," Janet replied.

"I'm still conflicted," Amara said, "though I'm leaning toward something ancient Egyptian."

"I'm not getting a tattoo," Katherine said, "they're too painful and harmful to the liver."

"Neither am I," Kristen said.

"I'm getting the Jolly Rodger," Lita replied.

"And I'm getting a stylized picture of Darth Vader's helmet," I said. The exchange students did a double take and looked at me in horror. I raised an eyebrow and said, "what?"

"Nothing," Mader said.

"And what is the point of the tattoos?" Kabea asked.

"It makes us different!" Janet said.

"More different than we already are," Liz added, "and it's a proud statement of identity."

"Or fandom, depends on how you look at it," I said. I was getting my tattoo out of my love of Star Wars.

"Why do you need to make that kind of statement?" Kabea asked Liz. "Is it necessary to inject ink into your body to communicate who you are?"

"Oh, Liz has gone much further than that," Taylor said with a laugh.

"Yeah," Liz laughed, "check this out." She extended her tongue, and the exchange students looked revolted when they saw her blue metal tongue ring. Bryce held the underside of his chin and looked as if he were in pain.

"What is that?" Thykos asked.

"It's a tongue ring," Liz said, putting her tongue back in her mouth.

"You stuck a metal rod through your tongue?" Bryce asked. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to," Liz replied.

"It's one of her identity statements," Janet said.

"Yeah," I replied, "she's kind of nuts and is proving it to the world."

Liz stamped on my foot and I swore loudly.

"How did you learn to talk with that thing?" Kabea asked, looking utterly appalled. "Or eat for that matter?"

"It took practice," Liz said.

"Yeah," Lita laughed. "She spoke with a lisp for about three months."

"But I got used to it eventually," Liz said. "Now I hardly realize that it's there."

"I've always wondered if it gets in the way of French kissing, though," Amara commented.

"It doesn't, actually," Liz answered, "it's very surprising, but you can French with a tongue ring no problem."

"Didn't getting that thing hurt, though?" Mader asked.

"Oh yeah," Liz said, "and it was sore for a while afterward. But it was worth it, cause I love this thing!"

"Taylor has an odd piercing too," Amara said.

"Yep!" Taylor beamed. She lifted up her shirt and stood up, revealing her silver and rhinestone bellybutton ring. The exchange students looked grossed out again.

"It's not as cool as my odd piercing," Liz said, "but it's still very sexy."

Taylor lowered her shirt and sat back down.

"My brother has a lip ring," Caitlyn said, "and it looks ridiculous. He says it's annoying 'cause he has to take it out every time he kisses his girlfriend."

"His lip?" Mader asked quietly, putting his fingers to his mouth.

"And anyway," Amara said to the exchange students, "you people are making statements of identity yourselves. Those braids are certainly unique."

"I love them," Liz giggled, twirling Galon's braid in her index finger. "They're so cute!"

"Didn't Anakin Skywalker have one of those in Star Wars II?" Janet asked.

"Yeah," Caitlyn said, "they're Padawan braids."

"Sweet!" Ann said. "Are you guys in like some kind of Star Wars fan club?"

"No," Kabea said quickly.

"Then what's the point of the braids?" Amara asked.

"Drop it," Emily mumbled, and Amara immediately shut up.

"Aw, your braid is so soft!" Liz said, putting her other arm around Galon's shoulders. "It's so… sexy." Galon looked frightened and tried to gently nudge her off. She smiled and looked at him seductively.

"God, Liz," Katherine said, "just throw yourself at him, why don'tcha?"

"I think the braids are sexy too," Lita said, petting Mader's braid and staring at him dreamily.

"Hello!" Caitlyn said waving. "Are their looks intoxicating or something? Snap out of it!"

"Yes, they are," Amara said. "You wouldn't understand."

"Yeah," Liz said, not taking her eyes off Galon, "you wouldn't understand what it's like to be attracted to someone."

"Oh I wouldn't?" Caitlyn barked. "And why would you be attracted to someone and not me?"

"Cause I'm not the one who fell in love with my laptop, that's why," Liz replied.

Caitlyn hugged her laptop and stroked the lid. "She didn't mean that baby, nooo," she said, shooting a glare at Liz.

"Mmmm," Liz purred into Galon's ear. "You make me want to go straight, you know that?" I saw her hand leave his braid and travel under the table. It no doubt came to rest on his thigh, because Galon looked horrified and tried to nudge her away.

"Liz, stop hitting on him," Janet said.

"Yeah," Arleen said, "he's obviously not getting your signals."

"Fine then," Liz said, "I don't need to be subtle. I like being forward."

"And what you're doing is being subtle?" Katherine exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

"You make me sick," Caitlyn said.

"Yeah," Kristen added, "how much more forward can you possibly be?"

Liz licked her lips and raised her eyebrows. She kissed Galon on the cheek and giggled, and Galon looked lost for words.

"Liz, get off of him!" Caitlyn said. "Can't you see how uncomfortable he is?"

"Aw, he's shy?" Liz asked, giggling and kissing him again. "I can fix that."

"I like a shy boy," Amara said, resting her head on Thykos' shoulder.

"Nah, they're more fun when they're riled up," Liz said. "Tell me Galon, do I make you horny?"

"LIZ!" several of us exclaimed in horror.

"Liz, shut the hell up!" Katherine gasped.

"What?" Liz asked, looking innocent. "It was just a question!"

"There is something seriously wrong with you, really," Caitlyn said, looking repulsed.

"You are a slut, you know that?" Katherine hissed at Liz.

Liz gasped and put her hand to her chest. "That hurt!" she said.

"Well, it's true, cause you're acting like one," Katherine replied. "Now let go of poor Galon and leave him the hell alone!"

"But I don't wanna!" Liz wailed, hugging him tighter. "He's so cute!" Galon looked desperate to get away.

"Don't worry, Galon," Lita said, standing up, "I'll get her off you in a minute." She left the lunch table, and I wondered what she could possibly do to get Liz off of a hot guy like Galon.

"I know one thing," Liz said to Galon, "you sure turn _me_ on."

"Oh?" Galon asked.

"Uh huh," Liz said nibbling his earlobe. "So, you wanna go sometime?"

"LIZ!" Katherine gasped. "You don't even know him!"

"Well, the point is to get to know each other better, isn't it?" Liz said matter-of-factly. "So, whaddya say, Galon baby? Do you want to?"

"Want to what?" Galon asked, either not understanding her or trying to avoid answering her question.

"You know…" Liz said softly. "Have sex with me. I know a place that we can go where no one will be around to hear us."

"LIZ, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Caitlyn yelled. "Are you blind? Can't you see how uncomfortable he is? He obviously doesn't want to have sex with you!"

I saw Lita approaching Liz from behind. Behind Lita, I caught a glimpse of Gary, and I laughed quietly. Lita was brilliant.

"Hello ladies," Gary said, coming to a stop behind Liz. Liz gasped and spun around.

"GARY!" she screamed, letting go of Galon and latching onto Gary. Galon looked relieved.

Gary looked at the exchange students and raised an eyebrow. "Well, hello there," he said, smiling at the guys. "And who might these charming young men be?"

"They're exchange students," Amara said. "They just arrived today."

"Hello," Gary said, waving and smiling. "My, what a handsome bunch you have here, ladies."

"Nuh uh!" Liz said, wagging a finger at him. "We found them first!"

"You can breathe now Galon," Caitlyn said, "she'll be preoccupied with Gary for a while."

Kabea looked horrified and glanced over at Emily. Emily sighed and held her head in annoyance, and I half expected her to say, "I don't know these people".

"I would just like to make an apology to all of you for certain people's behavior," Katherine said, shooting a glare at Liz. Liz glared back and gave her the finger.

"Please don't let this deter you from sitting with us," Amara pleaded, "we promise that we'll keep Liz under control from now on."

"Yeah, I even have a new roll of duct tape," Janet said. "If you need Liz tied up or gagged at any point, just let me know."

"You guys are so mean!" Liz wailed, leaning her head on Gary's shoulders and pretending to cry. Gary stroked her head sympathetically.

"We may not seem normal," Taylor said, "and okay, maybe we're not normal, but we're nice!"

"We get it," Kabea said dismissively.

The bell to end lunch finally rang, and everyone leapt out of their seats and headed toward the cafeteria exit. I hurried off, thankful to get away from the exchange students. I hoped that none of them would be in my Chemistry class.

However, as I hurried into the classroom just before the bell rang, I found, much to my horror, all five of them sitting at a lab table in the back of the room.

What the hell was this? Were they like following me or something? I seriously doubted that this was a coincidence.

When class began, Mr. Godette asked us to immediately hand in our lab reports. I looked around, and found that everyone around me had at least five pages written for the questions and a page for the calculations. I took out my lab report. I had answered all of the questions and done all of the calculations in two pages. I knew I had done everything wrong, and would probably receive a failing grade for it, but I didn't care. It was still early in the semester, and I could still offset it with extra credit.

"Lia, what the heck is this?" Katherine asked, grabbing my lab report from behind and examining it.

"My lab report," I replied. I turned around and snatched it from her.

"Are you kidding me?" Katherine asked. "Did you even answer all the questions?"

"Oh course I did!" I said.

"I mean answer all the questions thoroughly and correctly."

"Um, not quite 'thoroughly', and I'm sure not 'correctly," I replied, "but hey, at least it's done."

"Lia," Katherine said, holding her head, "you amaze me sometimes."

"Why do you even care so much about it?" I asked. "It's my grade, not yours. Why do you care whether or not I do my math homework, or whether or not I do a good job on my lab reports?"

"Because I care about you Lia," Katherine answered, "I don't want to see you fail. I know you can do better, but you're just not trying."

I sighed. Katherine was caring, and she meant well, but she could be annoying. She sounded like my mother. Honestly, why should she care if I wasn't living up to my full potential? It wasn't exactly her problem.

We handed in our lab reports, and Mr. Godette started his lecture. He wrote terms and definitions on the board, and I copied them down obediently, even though I was thoroughly confused as to what the teacher was talking about.

I sighed. This was going to be a long class if all the teacher did was lecture.

-----

I nodded off several times during the lecture, which ended up lasting the entire class. Katherine kicked my heels every time it looked like I wasn't paying attention. I openly rejoiced when class was over.

I dropped off my books at my locker, so I was almost late for art class. There were only two minutes left until the bell when I stepped into the classroom. When I got there, I gasped when I saw all five of the exchange students sitting at my usual table with Gary, Caitlyn, and Arleen. What the fuck was up with these five? Why were they always everywhere I was?

I sat down at the table next to Caitlyn, who looked annoyed. She turned to me and whispered, "are these people like following us or something? This is the second class I've had with them."

"You think two classes is bad?" I whispered back. "I've been with them all day."

"What?"

"Yeah," I said, dropping my voice lower, "I have had them in every single class!"

"Damn," she said, "I feel sorry for you." She made sure the exchange students couldn't hear her before continuing. "Lia," she whispered, "please tell me that I'm not the only one who doesn't feel the need to go gaga over these guys."

"You're not," I replied, "I'm not either."

"Ok good," Caitlyn said in relief, "now I know there's nothing wrong with me."

The bell rang, and Ms. Dammann introduced everyone to the new students. I was tired of hearing introductions of these five, but at least we didn't play the damn name game.

After the introduction, the teacher told us to get to work finishing and matting our charcoal drawings. She warned us that this was the last day to work on them, and that she would start grading them after class ended.

I got up with the rest of the class and grabbed my charcoal drawing off the shelf. I grabbed a couple broken pieces of black and white charcoal and sat back down. Ms. Dammann was giving the exchange students some art pencils and paper and was instructing them to free draw while the rest of us finished our projects.

Caitlyn took a seat next to me when Ms. Dammann left. "There shouldn't be a due-date on art," she groaned. "You can't time art! This thing's coming out crappy because I'm being rushed."

I looked over at her drawing. To me, it was an artistic masterpiece in charcoal. It depicted a city street with the buildings drawn in the style of the tower in Van Gogh's "Starry Night". Half of the buildings were on fire, and the moon took up half the night sky. It was dark, perfectly shaded, frightening, and incredible. She was going to get a 100 on it for certain.

"Caitlyn," I said, "what are you talking about? It's incredible!"

"No it's not!" Caitlyn said in disgust. "The flames are so simplistic. Their tongues aren't thin and flowing, and they don't snake around the buildings enough. The people have no expression and are too small, and the moon isn't creepy enough."

"Caitlyn," Garry interrupted, "will you stop complaining? It's fine as it is! Hell, it's beyond fine; it belongs in a museum! So stop rubbing it in for those people who suck at drawing."

"Gary's right," I said, "wake up and realize that your drawing is better than anyone else's in the class."

"Whatever," Caitlyn grunted, "it's not, but oh well."

Gary and I groaned. Gary scribbled some shading in the background of his lopsided drawing of a graveyard and grumbled under his breath. I looked at my drawing. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for me. I adjusted some shading of the background, signed a corner, and called it done. I got up to get myself a large piece of black paper to mat it.

I grabbed my sheet of paper and walked over to the industrial-sized paper cutter near my table. While I was cutting the paper to size, I couldn't help but notice that the exchange students were staring at my drawing and whispering amongst themselves. I thought that was odd. My drawing wasn't bad, but it wasn't excellent. The one they should have been staring at was Caitlyn's. Why were they staring at mine? What was so fascinating about it?

The teacher went up to the front of the room and addressed everyone. I stopped cutting and looked over at Ms. Dammann. She held up three white spray cans and said, "I forgot to mention that when you're done with your drawings, you need to spray them with acrylic spray before matting them. This will keep the charcoal from smudging. I will leave the cans on the front counter. But please, spray your drawings outside! This stuff smells really bad, and a room full of it will give everyone a headache."

I finished cutting my mat when she stopped talking and went back to my table. I took one last look over my drawing. It looked as good as it was going to get. I didn't need to do any more to it, so I was ready to spray it and call it finished.

I grabbed my drawing and a can of acrylic spray and walked out into the hall. A few feet to my left, the door to the back exit was propped open, and two other people were standing outside spraying their drawings. The horrid smell of acrylic spray entered my nose and instantly gave me a headache. I held my nose, but the smell was so strong that I could taste it. No wonder Ms. Dammann wanted us to use this stuff outside. It was nauseating.

I stepped outside into a cloud of acrylic spray. The other two had used way too much of it, and I was afraid that the copious amounts of the stuff I was breathing would cause permanent brain damage. I coughed. It was making my throat burn.

The other two finished spraying their drawings and headed back into the classroom. I was left alone outside. I placed my drawing on the pavement, uncapped the can, and began to spray the drawing. The charcoal darkened from the spray, and the shading became bolder and richer. I looked at my drawing in admiration. My Sith Lady was looking more and more like I imagined her, and I felt proud of my work, despite the fact that it was nowhere near as good as Caitlyn's.

"That drawing!" someone suddenly said behind me. Startled, I spun around, and found that Kabea had followed me outside.

"What?" I asked. I didn't want to talk to her. I wanted her to go away for a change.

"Do you have any idea who that is?" she cried, walking over and picking it up off the ground. Annoyed, I snatched it back from her.

"No," I said, "of course I don't, because she doesn't exist."

"You have no idea who that is?" she cried again, clearly distressed and angry.

"No!" I said, inching away from her. "It's just some random fictional person I made up! Chill out!" I put my drawing back on the ground and began giving it a second coat of spray. I raised an eyebrow at Kabea. It didn't look like my response was good enough for her.

"What is the matter with you?" I asked when she continued to stand there and stare at me. "You and your buddies have been staring at me all day. What the hell is so fascinating?"

"Nothing," she said calmly. "We didn't mean to stare."

"Whatever," I said. I knew she was lying, but I didn't press the matter further.

Kabea glared from me to my drawing one last time and departed without another word.

"That was weird," I whispered to myself as I waited for my drawing to dry. Emily had better have a damn good explanation for all of this. If she gave me another vague answer to my questions, I was convinced that I was going to flip out at her.


	13. After School Duel

**Chapter 13**

**After School Duel**

After I turned in my drawing, I was allowed to free-draw for the rest of art class. So I spent the rest of the time chatting with Gary and Arleen while doodling random things on a piece of printer paper. Caitlyn was so busy trying to add some last-minute details to her masterpiece that she was too distracted to speak to any of us. The exchange students did nothing but stare at me while they drew random things.

I was sad when the bell rang to end art class. I was having so much fun just goofing off, and I wanted to continue for a little while longer.

I packed my bag and went to my locker. When I opened it, two books and a folded piece of lined paper came tumbling out. I shoved the books back in and opened the piece of paper. Scribbled on it in horrible handwriting was a note addressed to me.

_Lia,_

_I hope you haven't forgotten about our little duel today! You had better not have forgotten your lightsaber again. I brought an extra one just in case you did. So regardless, I am dueling you today! I will meet you on the soccer field right after school. Be there, or be the laughing stock of the Star Wars fan club._

_-Russell_

I hadn't forgotten about our duel, and had packed my lightsaber in my backpack the night before. I quickly packed up the necessary books, shut my locker, and headed for the soccer field.

Apparently, Russell had spread the news of our duel, because when I got to the field, over two-dozen people were gathered to watch us fight, and more people were arriving by the minute. Regardless of if I won this duel or not, I was going to strangle Russell for attracting so much attention to this stupid little conflict of ours.

As I approached the crowd, I heard the faint ring of the bell that ended the school day. They were talking loudly amongst themselves, and six more people came running from the parking lot, the gymnasium, and the school courtyard to watch the upcoming duel.

As I neared the crowd, I was able to discern some familiar faces. Among the masses were Amara, Liz, Ann, Janet, Kristen, Arleen, Katherine, Lita, and Gary. I recognized one of the Freshmen, two Sophomores, and a half-dozen Juniors and Seniors. Among the Seniors was Will, the moderator and referee for all official lightsaber duels at Central High. Next to him was his apprentice, a Sophomore named Karl who would take over as referee if Will ever managed to graduate.

The rules and protocol of the official lightsaber duels of the CHS Star Wars fan club were very strict and formal. The dueling system started off as something done for fun, but soon became a legal practice worthy of the involvement of an attorney. The Star Wars fans at CHS took the duels _very_ seriously, and there were certain rules, protocol, and etiquette that each duelist must follow. The dueling system seemed weird to most people, but we considered it a very effective conflict-resolution technique.

A Star Wars fan needed to align his or herself with either the Jedi or the Sith before the fan could participate in any of the official duels. The fan could switch sides at any time, and no one cared. After choosing an allegiance, the fan was required to buy a plastic toy lightsaber. The lightsaber needed to reflect their allegiance, and therefore a Jedi could not have a red lightsaber, and a Sith could not have any color other than red.

Once the lightsaber was purchased, the fan could participate in duels. There were two different kinds of duels: fun or practice duels, and the problem-solving duels. The practice duels were purely for fun and exercise, and did not require a referee. Problem-solving duels, however, did.

When one was challenged to the second type of duel, the two opponents needed to negotiate the stakes before the start of the duel. Once the stakes were worked out, the actual duel could begin. Each opponent needed to agree on the date on which the fight would take place. The duel could only be carried out in the presence of the official referee/moderator to ensure a fair fight. The referee also acted as a neutral party to witness and notarize the terms. With the neutral party, neither opponent could back out of the terms of the duel. The punishment for violation of the terms was serious and almost intolerable humiliation, ridicule, and outcast status among every Star Wars fan in the school. If one refused a challenge, one could face a less serious, but still horrible, form of the same punishment.

There used to be three official moderators. Two graduated last year, and were stupid enough to take apprentices in their own grade. So the apprentices that were supposed to take their place also graduated last year. That left Will, who failed three of his classes last year and was held back because of it, as the only remaining official moderator.

The Master and apprentice relationship in Central High was less formal than in the Star Wars universe. Each Sith Lord and Jedi Master took apprentices, but the apprentices were little more than people who were friends with the Masters and hung out with them all the time. One achieved the status of Sith Lord or Jedi Master and could take an apprentice when one became a Junior. Those aligned to the Light Side of the Force were Padawans as Freshmen, and became Knights as Sophomores. Those aligned to the Dark Side were just called "Sith" or "Sith Warriors" until they became Sith Lords in their Junior year. The apprentice could even be another person of the same rank as the Master. The system was so messed up and unofficial that no one cared about it. It was the one system that the Star Wars fans paid little or no attention to.

There was also a Jedi Grand Master and a Dark Lord of the Sith in the school that acted as the primary leaders and organizers of the club. These people could only be Seniors, and were elected by the members of their Order. Will acted as Jedi Grand Master in addition to his duties as official referee. A girl named Serena Tenn acted as Dark Lord of the Sith, and was the first woman in the history the fan club to be elected Dark Lord.

No one had ever wanted to claim me as their apprentice, so I was just waiting for Sophomore year to end so I could take an apprentice myself. Caitlyn agreed to be Arleen's apprentice when they became Juniors, and I was still searching for someone who wanted to be my apprentice.

When I reached the crowd, my friends cheered. I found Russell standing in the center of the crowd. He looked at me and smiled tauntingly, and I nodded calmly at him.

When Will saw me, he beckoned Russell and me to come closer. I pulled my lightsaber out of my backpack, handed my bag to Janet, and joined Russell and Will.

"Have you two agreed on the terms?" Will asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Excellent," Will replied. He held out his hand to Karl, and Karl rummaged through his bag and pulled out a legal pad and a pen. Will began to scribble the beginning of the written copy of the terms, which would be the official record of our duel and the document that held us to our agreement.

While he was writing, I looked around at the assembled throng. Caitlyn had finally shown up and was in the second row. To my surprise, I also caught sight of Emily. She always thought that these duels were stupid, and never came to watch. I supposed that as a real Jedi, Emily felt mocked by our practices. I wondered why she chose to show up today.

Equally surprising, I saw all five of the exchange students standing behind Emily. Liz was smiling and waving at them, but Arleen, Amara, Katherine, and Lita all supervised her and placed themselves between her and the exchange students. Liz kept trying to nudge her way past them, but they held her in check. I laughed at the scene.

After a few minutes, Will turned to us and said, "please state your names and ranks."

"Russell Backes," Russell replied, "Jedi Knight."

"Amelia MacIntosh," I replied, "Sith."

I heard several people murmur, but I couldn't tell who they were.

"And what are the terms?" Will asked.

Russell immediately recited the terms if he won the duel.

Will scribbled down these terms and turned to me. "And if you should win?" he asked.

I recited my terms.

"Do you wish to enact the 'sore losers clause'?" Will asked.

"Yes," I immediately responded.

Russell sighed and agreed.

The "sore losers clause" was an optional part of the dueling process. If each opponent wished, this clause could be enacted, which would prevent either one of them from challenging the other to a rematch over the same conflict. This was a way of ensuring that sore losers could not keep insisting on rematches. Most people chose to do this option, and since I knew that Russell would demand a rematch if he lost, I was insistent on enacting this clause.

Will wrote this down and scribbled some more things down before holding out the pad and pen. "You each need to sign it," he replied.

Russell took the pad, signed his name, and handed it to me. I looked over the contract.

_On this day, September 27, at approximately 3:10 pm, a duel took place between Russell Backes, a Jedi Knight, and Amelia MacIntosh, a Sith. The duel was officially endorsed by the Central High School Star Wars fan club, and was carried out in the presence of the official referee and moderator William McConnell, Grand Master of the Jedi Order. It was a fair challenge that was accepted by both parties, who were well aware of the stakes prior to the commencement of the duel. This is the official written record of that duel._

_I, William McConnell, certify that I will supervise the duel and ensure that the fight is fair. I also agree to be witness to and notarize the agreed terms, and will enforce said terms and ensure that they are not violated._

_The terms of the duel:_

_If Russell should win, Amelia must rejoin and remain unwaveringly loyal to the D&D club and his campaign. Russell has also agreed that he must change the date of the club meetings to a day other than Tuesday. If Amelia wins the duel, she can do as she pleases, and will be able to quit the D&D club and the campaign if she so chooses. Russell must also not pester her about rejoining the club and campaign and cannot discuss it further._

_By signing this contract, each party agrees to withhold the terms of this duel at all costs. Any violation will be met with the appropriate punishment established by the Central High School Star Wars fan club. Each party is aware that because this contract is notarized by a third, neutral party, it is binding. The terms cannot be revoked or changed after the commencement of the duel._

_Each party has also agreed to enact the Sore Losers Clause. Therefore, neither can challenge the other to a rematch over the conflict of the D&D club. Violation of this clause will be met with the same punishment as violation of the terms._

_I, __Russell Backes__, on my honor as a member of the Jedi Order, agree to uphold the terms and carry out a fair fight._

_I,, on my honor as a member of the Sith Order, agree to uphold the terms and carry out a fair fight._

_This contract is notarized by ._

_The official victor of this duel is . I, by signing this, agree that I saw win this duel and declare him/her (circle one) the winner. The winnings cannot be challenged or refuted by the losing party as part of the Sore Losers Clause._

I suppressed a laugh. This contract was ridiculous and sounded like something a lawyer would write. This school's Star Wars fans seriously needed to get a life.

I signed my name in the correct blank and handed it back to Will, who notarized the contract.

Will hushed the crowd and told them to step back. They did so and formed a very large circle around Will, Russell, and I. I glanced over at Emily, who looked less than amused, and the exchange students, who looked confused and were probably wondering what in the world was going on.

Russell and I faced each other. Will backed up a little and said, "you will observe the proper dueling etiquette by bowing to each other."

Russell bent a little, and I bowed in return. We then turned around and took five steps away from each other. When we turned around and faced each other again, Will said, "Sith draws first."

I extended the red plastic blade of my lightsaber. According to the dueling protocol, if the duel took place between a Jedi and a Sith, the Sith always drew first. If two Jedi or two Sith dueled each other, a coin was flipped to determine who drew first. Whoever created this dueling system sure thought of every detail.

Out of the corner of my eye, saw the exchange students whisper to each other while staring and pointing at me. I ignored them and focused on Russell. He drew his green lightsaber blade, and we took firm stances.

"I look forward to you rejoining my campaign!" Russell called.

"HA!" I retorted. "You wish! I look forward to seeing you struggle to find a replacement for my character. That will certainly be an amusing sight!"

"Maybe my campaign can move forward now that you're actively playing!" Russell cried.

"Good luck finding a new sorcerer, because that just isn't gonna happen!" I shouted back. "Besides, even if I was back on the campaign, it would never move forward, because you're a horrible Dungeon Master!"

"And I'm gonna prove you wrong!" Russell shouted.

"Do you honestly think you have a chance of winning against me?" I asked with a laugh. "Didn't you learn not to mess with me the _first_ time I kicked your ass? Remember that duel our Freshman year?"

"Yes," Russell grumbled, "I remember, and I don't plan on losing to you again! I've been practicing, and I'm ready to beat you this time and get your sorcerer back on my campaign."

"Are you ready?" Will asked, interrupting our conversation.

We nodded, and Will raised his arm. "I want a nice, clean duel," he reminded. I prepared myself. Will dropped his arm and yelled, "duel!"

Russell and I lunged at each other, and clashed lightsabers in the center of the circle of spectators. The crowd cheered us on as we fought. Russell was stronger in the arms than I was, but I was the better runner, and was therefore quicker and more agile in my footwork. It looked like all those lacrosse practices at least did _something_ for me.

People were ooing and awing at us as we fought, and I even heard someone say "wow, she's got some sick skills with a lightsaber!"

I tended to take the offensive in duels because I was better on the offensive. It was part of the reason I chose Sith as my allegiance. However, I wasn't shabby on the defensive either. Sword fighting was one of the only things I was really good at, and I practiced during my spare time. I learned my techniques from watching Star Wars more times than was healthy, and playing the Star Wars games so many times that I practically memorized them. I was particularly fond of the aggressive offensive techniques used by the Sith, and I always used them during duels. They just seemed to work for me.

Russell struggled to block my endless volley of blows, and tried to move away. Eventually, he was able to back away from me and run to the edge of the circle of spectators. I smirked evilly and approached him. He took the offensive and charged at me, screaming and wielding his lightsaber like a jousting lance. I leapt out of the way, and as his momentum carried him past me, I lunged forward and brushed his neck with my red blade. Russell gasped, and Will held up his arms and shouted, "Russell, you have been beheaded. You are now dead and defeated."

"NOOOO!" Russell screamed, beating his lightsaber against the ground. He turned to me, and asked "Lia, best of three?"

"No!" Will insisted. "The duel is over. You cannot demand a rematch."

"THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Russell cried. This was exactly why I wanted the sore losers clause.

"Lia won perfectly fair and square," Will said, approaching me. He grabbed my wrist, held up my arm, and announced, "I declare Amelia the victor of this duel!"

The crowd cheered, and Russell screamed "NOOOOO!" again. Will wrote the last bits on the contract and handed it back to his apprentice. Karl placed the contract in an envelope, sealed it, and wrote the date on the front. The duel was officially over, and I officially won.

Proper dueling etiquette discouraged the winners from gloating, so I wasn't going to rub my victory in Russell's face. However I couldn't resist saying, "good luck finding another sorcerer, Russell, cause I am OUTTA HERE!"

Russell swore angrily, retracted his lightsaber, and stormed off. My friends swarmed toward me and each took turns hugging and congratulating me. They cheered for me, and I beamed and thanked them. I saw Emily and the exchange students standing in the back of the crowd of my friends. I could have sworn I heard one of the guys say to Emily "the Force is strong with her, but there is so much anger! I sense the Dark Side in her."

I ignored him and headed for the courtyard, with my friends close behind me.

"Lia," Janet said, "you were amazing!"

"Yeah," Katherine said, "like something out of a Star Wars movie!"

"You have _got_ to show me some of those moves sometime!" Janet cried. "How did you learn all of those? Did you take fencing lessons or something?"

"No," I replied. "Just watch the movies and play the games a lot, and you'll be good too."

"Will you teach us your moves?" Janet asked.

"If you want," I replied. I beamed. All this praise was a great boost to my self-esteem. Emily was probably going to give me another lecture about the suspicious skills and moves, but I didn't care. I was having a moment, and nothing could spoil it for me.

My group of friends broke apart when we got to the courtyard. A few decided to hang out at the school for a little while longer, some headed to the driveway to go wait for their rides, and a few more left to begin their walk home. Emily and the exchange students were the only ones that remained with me.

I started to make my way to the bike racks when Emily tugged at my sleeve and whispered, "I need to speak to you, NOW!"

I knew this was about the duel. I broke away and said, "later. I need to get home. I have things to do. Call me, okay?"

"Lia, this is important," Emily insisted, "that duel-"

"Later," I said, turning aside and heading to the bike racks without another word. I heard Emily let out a groan of annoyance, but I ignored her.

I unlocked my bike, hopped on, and coasted down the sloped driveway. Emily glared at me as I passed, and I waved pleasantly. When I got to the bottom I saw Katherine, Ann, and Janet waiting for their rides. We all waved at each other before I turned down the street.


	14. Channel Surfing

**Chapter 14**

**Channel Surfing**

Aurora could just go to hell.

All this extra practice was her idea after all. I had better things that I could be doing with my Thursday night, but nooooo. I was stuck sitting in my room practicing that stupid song that already sounded fine over and over again. But fine wasn't good enough for Mr. Fulger or his beloved pet, so we all had to suffer for it.

I was getting my five hours of practice done in half-hour installments in between the mountains of math problems and history reading due tomorrow. I decided that since I flunked the last quiz, I should do the history reading more often so maybe I would at least pass the next one, granted that I was able to retain anything I studied in the first place. That would certainly be a challenge. The day's events had me so distracted that it was hard to follow the stupid music, let alone any of the history reading.

I couldn't help but think about all those foreign exchange students. They looked so much like Padawans that I was convinced that they were real Padawans. With Star Wars being real and all, I wasn't exactly surprised. Until two days ago I would have thought that they were just radical Star Wars fans, but now things were different. Now I knew they were real Padawans. What else could they be?

The other questions that plagued me was why in the world they were here in my school and why they were following me all day. I doubted that it was coincidence that they were in all of my classes, but what the hell could they possibly want from me? What was so damn interesting about me that they felt the need to stare at me all the time? Had the Jedi Council sent them to keep an eye on me? After all, I knew the secret of Star Wars. Maybe they had been sent to make sure that I didn't tell anyone else the truth. That must have been it. There could be no other explanation.

I glanced at the clock. My half-hour practice segment was up, and it was time to get back to Algebra. I put my clarinet on my bed and sat down at my desk. I picked up my Algebra homework, took one look at it, and felt sick. I was only on problem seven, and I had about twenty more to go.

Use the quadratic formula to solve the equation.

What the fuck was the quadratic formula?

I flipped through my textbook and found the section titled "The Quadratic Formula". I took one look at the formula I had to use and went cross-eyed. I had no idea where to begin, let alone solve the stupid thing. Where did all these a's, b's, and c's come from? The problem told me to solve for x! What was the deal with all these extra letters?

I tried to follow the steps presented in the example to solve the homework problem, punched the numbers in to my calculator, and got an error message. I groaned and scanned my steps. They were totally incoherent, but from what I could tell, I was taking the square root of a negative. I erased the negative sign, punched the numbers into my calculator again, and got a "DIVIDE BY ZERO" error. Wait. What? I didn't know you couldn't divide by zero! Where did _this_ rule come from?

I tossed my pencil back on my desk, went over to the bed, and collapsed onto it. I had had enough of Algebra, the clarinet, and everything to do with school. I didn't want to stay up until 1 am doing homework again. I was only a Sophomore, and I was already done with school. I didn't care about any of it anymore. I was just going to do what I could and go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight.

I especially had enough of everything to do with this whole Jedi drama. My arms were sore from flinging around the light saber, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

I reached over to my nightstand and found the remote to the TV that stood on a small table next to my desk. I turned on the TV and began surfing through the hundreds of channels in hopes of finding something good to watch. My homework could go to hell for a while. I wanted to immerse myself in something that would distract me from my homework and the events of the past three days.

However, after a few seconds of surfing, I realized that there wasn't anything worth my attention.

The first thing I came upon was a half-naked woman doing a sexy dance on a stage to a techno beat. My eyes widened and I quickly changed the channel.

"Are you fighting a losing battle with hair loss?"

I hastily clicked the remote away from the commercial.

The next thing I came upon was a black gangster holding a gun to another black guy's head and yelling "GIVE ME THE FUCKING DOUGH YOU MOTHER FUCKING-" I clicked away before he got a chance to finish.

Then there was the distinctive background laugh of a sitcom. A guy was standing by a kitchen sink holding a dead chicken, and an old woman next to him stared at him blankly. The laughter grew harder, and I changed the channel in confusion.

Next, some blonde woman was crying in a guy's arms and wailing "and the next thing I knew my sister was pregnant with Jason's brother's baby, and everyone but me thought that Mark was the father, but Mike was convinced that he was the father, and-"

Jesus Christ! Do people actually _watch_ this shit? CLICK!

The next thing I knew, I was watching two seconds of some horror movie in which a giant snake was eating some guy's arms off while a woman screamed. Revolted, I changed the channel as quickly as I could.

The next image was of a giant orange with a smiley face laughing a high, sickening laugh and a purple dog running around barking. Oh the things we subject our children to. Onto the next channel!

Two middle-aged white guys in suits were yelling at each other across a table. One was yelling "that candidate's just too damn liberal" while the other was saying "these right-wing Conservatives are going to be the end of this country if we don't get them under control!" I rolled my eyes and clicked away.

"OXY CLEAN REMOVES EVEN THE TOUGHEST STAINS!"

Click away! Quick, before he gets louder!

"There were two suicide bombs this afternoon that killed a total of-"

Depressing. Click.

"And Brittney Spears' newest outfit is-"

Who gives a crap? Click!

"In theaters this October, the dead rise again and are going to eat your soul!"

What the hell?

"Now whenever you order two large fries, you get a small sundae free!"

Whoopie. What a deal.

"Today we saw a lot of sun with some interludes of clouds around noon-"

They're good at telling you what the weather was like in the _past_…

"The NASDAQ fell twenty points-"

Click.

"I'm telling you, this team just doesn't have a good defense this year. I mean, look at the way they lost that last game forty-five to seven!"

Poor them.

"Holy cricket! You're Harry Potter!"

I didn't feel like watching that right now.

"A few hairs were found on the rug in the murder victim's apartment."

Oh dear god, no!

"Let's see how just $1,000 and a little work can transform this house into a homeowner's dream come true!"

You do that.

"The cricket chirps to attract the female-"

The whole point of turning on the TV was to distract myself from my education, not enhance it!

"Have hours and hours of fun making gummy worms out of edible slime with this new toy from-"

And get sick in the process.

"And now that the engine is all beefed up, let's turn on the truck and see what this baby sounds like-"

Men are so weird.

"And coming up in our next top story: Why your children may get sick from the lead paint in all their toys-"

I never put my Star Wars action figures in my mouth, so I wasn't in any danger. Right?

"AND THEY SCORE!"

Woohoo.

"On November 11, at 11 am, in the year 1918-"

Here we go again with the educational shit! Whatever happened to the mind-numbing garbage that used to dominate?

"All for only $19.99! But wait! There's more! If you call within the next ten minutes-"

Oh for crying out loud! There were close to nine hundred channels and there was nothing on! Even though I wanted to waste my time and mind on brainless crap, I wanted to waste it on something worthwhile! Hadn't these people ever heard of Sci-Fi?

I surfed around for a few more minutes, hoping that on one of the bazillions of channels there was something decent to watch. I propped my head up on a pillow and threw my comforter over my body. I snuggled into bed and got comfortable as I continued to click the remote.

Then, the heavens opened up and I was graced with a miracle. Star Wars was on one of the HBO channels. I let out a squeal of rejoice and put away the remote. Even though Star Wars made me think of the events of the past three days, my fandom made me feel obligated to watch it. There was nothing else on anyway.

I had tuned in just in time to watch Darth Vader fight the aged Obi Wan. I couldn't help but laugh when I thought of the duel between Russell and I earlier that day. I sure kicked some Jedi ass.

"You're powers are weak, old man," Darth Vader replied.

"No they're not!" I countered.

"If you strike me down," Obi Wan started.

"I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." I recited as Obi Wan said those exact words. I laughed. I seriously needed a life.

I watched the events unfold for the millionth time in my life. After a while, I found that I wasn't fully paying attention. Lying in bed made me realize just how tired I was. I hadn't slept much the night before, and now I was feeling it.

The next thing I knew, as Luke and company escaped the Death Star, I was running through the corridors of a palace. I was in a huge rush to get somewhere. I held my lightsaber in my hand but did not draw it. Now was not the time to fight. I needed to find what I was looking for.

I turned a corner and came to a large, dark room. It seemed that I was alone. I got very flustered. What I was looking for should have been here. I looked around and yelled, "where are you?"

My voice echoed off the walls. I looked around frantically. I was indeed alone. I turned on my heel and ran back the way I came. As I stepped out into the hallway again, I nearly crashed into a tall man in a black robe approaching from the other direction. I tried to avoid crashing and stumbled and fell. He caught me, and held me in his muscled arms. Startled, I looked up to see who I had run into, but could not see a face through the darkness of the hood. But somehow I knew who it was.

I threw my arms around him and nearly cried with joy. I had found what I was looking for.

"Oh thank god I found you!" I cried. "I was so worried!"

"You needn't worry about me," he replied in an icy voice, "you know that."

"Yes," I said, "but we've lost so many-"

"I know," he answered, "but that doesn't matter. We will pull through this anyway. You will see."

I nodded. I wanted to believe him, but for some reason I was skeptical.

The scene dissolved, and I found myself stumbling onto the floor of the familiar white corridor. My lightsaber had fallen to the ground and was no longer of any use to me. The cloaked figure was steadily approaching. I cowered back in fear. The figure continued to approach and I began to cry. He was only a few feet from me. I looked up into the hood but could see nothing. He loomed over me for a moment, and I continued to cry. I wanted to leave this place. I wanted everything to just end and go away. His knees bent, and he began to kneel.

"LIA!" I heard a faint voice yell. The scene vanished, and the next thing I knew, I was back in my bed. The Death Star was exploding, and Mom was calling me. I groaned. I didn't want to get leave my soft, squishy bed. It was too comfortable.

Groggy, I got up and opened my door. "What?" I called back to my mother.

"Could you come into the kitchen for a minute?" she asked.

I moaned, rubbed my eyes, and obeyed. When I got to the kitchen, I did a double take and gasped in horror. Standing by the kitchen door with my mom were all five of the exchange students. Bryce smiled pleasantly, Galon, Thykos, and Mader stared at me with indifference, and Kabea looked as cold and stern as ever. Anger bubbled within me. What the hell were they doing here? They were NOT going to invade my home too!

"Lia," Mom said pleasantly, "these are some foreign exchange students that just transferred to your school-"

"What are they doing here?" I snapped, glaring from Kabea to Mom.

"They are being housed in our neighborhood," Mom said, a little annoyed, "so I invited them over for dinner-"

"You WHAT?" I nearly screamed.

"-as a way of welcoming them to our town and country," Mom said through gritted teeth.

"Thank you for having us Ms. MacIntosh," Thykos replied with a bow of his head.

"No," I said, "they are not-"

"Why don't you come over here and have a seat?" Mom said, abruptly cutting me off. She escorted Kabea to the kitchen table and glared sharply at me as she passed. Each exchange student looked at me with the same funny look as they passed by, and I was ready to explode from anger. This was not happening to me. I must have still been dreaming.

_This was_ _SO NOT HAPPENING TO ME!_


	15. Dinner Party From Hell

**Chapter 15**

**Dinner Party From Hell**

The exchange students crammed around our small kitchen table, and Mom placed plates in front of them all. My eye twitched, and I stood there looking at the spectacle in horror. They were _not_ in my house. There was no way Mom had invited those creeps into our house!

I took my usual seat at the table and felt sick. To my left was Mader, whom I was still mad at for lecturing me, and to my right was Kabea, who made me feel the most uneasy and whom I hated the most. I wasn't sure what made her worse than the others, but she made me feel angry and jumpy inside. Maybe it was because she was even sterner and emotionless than Emily in full Jedi mode, and it creeped me out. I was also annoyed that she got on my case over a stupid drawing. Whatever the reason, I hated her guts, and was not happy that I was stuck sitting next to her all through dinner.

Mom hummed a happy tune and pulled a platter of meatloaf out of the oven. I scowled at her enthusiasm about this whole thing. Why oh _WHY_ did she invite them here?

"I hope you enjoy your meal," Mom said pleasantly as she served us all, causing me to roll my eyes in disgust. "It's not much, but still tasty."

"We appreciate your hospitality," Thykos replied with a smile.

I grumbled under my breath and attacked my meatloaf with my fork. I wanted to eat quickly and get the hell out of there, but I knew if I did I was never going to hear the end of it from Mom. So I tried to eat at the same pace as everyone else.

"So," Mom said, trying to get a conversation going, "where did you all say you were from again?"

"Europe," Kabea replied.

"Very nice," said Mom.

I rolled my eyes. That was the only answer any of them ever gave to that stupid question. It was so broad, and I wondered why no one ever asked which specific country they were from. I contemplated asking them myself, just to see their reactions, but decided to keep my mouth shut and hope I would just dissolve unnoticed into the background. The last thing I wanted was to get into a confrontation with them alone like this. Where was that distracting Liz when I needed her?

"Is this your first day here in this town?" Mom asked.

"Yes," Galon replied.

"How are you liking it so far?" Mom asked again.

"Its very nice," said Galon, "we like it here."

What a scripted response. I hated small talk.

"Lia," Mom said, making me jump slightly, "do you have any classes with them?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

"Oh wonderful!" Mom said so cheerfully it made me want to throw up. "Which ones?"

"Every damn one," I grumbled.

"Oh wow!" Mom said, clearly fascinated with this. "That's amazing! This'll be a great opportunity to learn about their culture!"

"Whoodie doo," I grumbled, eating faster.

"You'll have to excuse her," Mom said to them, shooting a glare at me. "She's been a little cranky tonight."

"We don't mind," Kabea said, "she's been like this all day. We were starting to think that she's always this angry."

"Oh really?" Mom asked, glaring at me. "How exactly did you act toward them, Lia?"

"I didn't do anything," I snapped, glaring back at Mom.

"She screamed at one of our classmates," Mader replied, "nearly had a fight."

"Oh?" Mom said, glaring harder.

"That bitch had it coming!" I snapped at him, furious that he was ratting on me. "She fucking called me-"

"Lia, watch your language!" Mom cried, clearly offended.

"You need to control your emotions," Mader advised, "especially your anger."

"Oh shut the fuck up," I barked, "and stop preaching to me."

"Lia!" Mom muttered in horror.

"Calm yourself," Thykos chimed in.

I growled and nearly screamed in frustration. They were only making me angrier.

"Oh shut up and leave me in peace, will you?" I said. "It's bad enough I've had to put up with you and your shit all day, and I don't need it in my own home too!"

"We're just trying to help," Galon said.

"Help with _what_?" I cried. "There's nothing I need help with! I was perfectly fine today before you people came into my life!"

"What have we done that has infuriated you so?" Bryce asked.

"Well first of all," I said, "you keep pestering me to 'calm myself' and 'control my emotions', and it's annoying the hell out of me. And secondly, you," I pointed to Kabea, "got on my case about absolutely nothing in art today-"

"The matter was serious," Kabea said.

"What the fuck could _possibly_ be serious about a stupid drawing?" I exclaimed. "Come on, tell me what the hell was so catastrophic about it!"

Kabea was silent, and stared hard into my eyes. I glared at her and almost wished that my gaze could kill her where she sat.

"We just want to help you," Bryce said calmly, "that's all."

"Help me with _what_?" I shouted. My anger bubbled with even more intensity the longer this went on.

"You will come to understand in time," Galon said.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Sedate your anger," Kabea said emotionlessly.

"Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed, throwing down my fork. "What do you people want from me? Why the hell are you following me everywhere I go? Why are you always staring at me? Can't I get a moment's peace?"

The exchange students looked at each other quizzically, and they looked a bit worried. I glared at them and finished my meal. Mom looked like she was ready to explode, and I was trembling with rage.

"It is clear that we make you uneasy," Galon said.

"No? Really?" I asked sarcastically. I rolled my eyes. "Nice observation, oh master of stating the obvious."

"We will no longer pester you," Kabea said, "if it infuriates you so."

"Just stay the hell away from me," I warned. I wanted nothing more than to kick all their asses, especially Kabea's.

The exchange students looked at each other, nodded, and quickly finished their food.

"We must be going," Mader said to Mom as they all got up from the table. "Thank you for having us. The meal was great."

"Leaving so soon?" Mom whimpered. "Please stay a while. Don't mind Lia-"

"We all have other things to attend to," Kabea said, "so we won't bother you any longer."

"Well," Mom said reluctantly, "please come again soon."

"Good bye," Mader said. They each bowed and left the house. When they closed the door behind them, Mom gave me a look that could murder someone. Before she could scream at me, I stormed out of the kitchen and into my room. I threw on my shoes, left the house, and hopped on my bike. I turned on the headlight and peddled down the street toward the one person that could explain just what the hell was going on.

It was just dark enough for the streetlights to go on. Across the street, I could see the wrinkled, chocolate-colored face of my eighty-year old neighbor staring out his picture window and glaring at the outside world. I ignored him as I passed and peddled up the street. In a house up the street, I saw my tiny Lebanese neighbor hanging up fall decorations in her window. Across the street from her, a Japanese lady was walking by her window carrying a large cardboard box.

I turned off my street, took a couple of lefts, and entered a wooded part of our neighborhood. A squirrel scrambled around in front of me before running away toward the woods. I swerved to the left to avoid hitting him, but remained balanced. I took a right and began to peddle up a hill. In the driveway to my right, some teenage guys holding beer cans were dancing in the bed of a pickup truck while a girl sprayed them with a hose. In a window further up the road, I saw a woman running on a treadmill, looking red and exhausted. I rolled my eyes. Why in the world people ran on those things was beyond me. I had way too much running in my life to even think about wanting to run on one of those stupid machines.

I was panting when I reached the crest of the hill, and I let myself coast down, occasionally touching the breaks to maintain my speed. I veered right at the fork in the road at the bottom of the hill and went down a dark, narrow road. I passed by a few more houses that either had the curtains drawn or were completely dark. The road twisted a couple of times, and eventually I saw a grey house appear further up the road.

The house was fairly large with three floors and a large, one-floor addition out back. It sat on a good-sized lot surrounded by trees. I turned and headed up the winding driveway. The light on the garage lit up as soon as I entered the property and illuminated the manicured lawn and the garden and shrubs by the house. I slowed down as I approached the garage and eventually came to a stop outside the doors. I got off my bike, propped it up on the kickstand, and hurried over to the front door. I paused before knocking and wondered if Emily could sense my presence and already knew that I was there. I waited for a moment to see if she would come to the door on her own, but when she didn't, I shrugged and rang the bell.

I stepped back, and a few seconds later, the door opened. The middle-aged woman in the doorway instantly recognized me and waved.

"Hello Lia!" she said cheerfully. "This is a pleasant surprise!"

"Hello Mrs. Towne," I said to Emily's mother, "is Emily home?"

"Why yes," she said. She turned around and yelled "Emily! Lia's here!" She turned back to me, opened the screen, and said, "why don't you come on in?"

Not wanting to seem rude, I agreed, and stepped over the threshold and into the warm foyer.

I looked around, and instantly a million memories from my childhood came rushing back to me. The gold carpet in the foyer and the living room just a few feet ahead was the same carpet I remembered from my childhood. I remembered first going to Emily's house when I was in kindergarten and playing with dolls with Emily on that carpet in the living room. I craned my neck to glance in the living room. The furniture was arranged differently, and the TV was newer, but other than that it was the same. I saw myself sitting on the couch with Emily late one night when we were in third grade. We had snagged some pretzels out of the cupboard and were eating them on the couch. It was way past our bedtimes, and we knew we were doing something we weren't supposed to. Our giggling and the rustling of the bag woke Emily's mom up, and she naturally came downstairs and scolded us for being up late and making a mess on the couch. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when I recalled the event.

I took a few steps closer, and was able to see through the living room and partly into the kitchen around the corner. The same blue linoleum floor, the glass cupboards, and the white porcelain backsplash of the stove from ten years ago looked back at me, and I smiled. I remembered when Emily and I tried to bake cookies in there after we had started middle school. We ended up making a colossal mess, and the cookies were flat and tasteless because neither of us had a clue how to bake them.

I sighed. Things were so simple when we were in elementary school, but now everything in life was just so confusing. Things began to get complicated once we entered Junior High. We began to notice guys, and guys began to notice us. Emily and I had been in the same class all through elementary school, but in Middle School, we were no longer in the same classroom together all the time. The coursework got harder, there were more extracurricular activities, and things just got genuinely more complicated and stressful. We had only had each other all through elementary school, but once we entered sixth grade, we were in with a lot of new people, and we made friends with other people almost as soon as we got there. I met many of my present friends in Junior High. Caitlyn, Lita, Arleen, and I all met in my sixth grade math class, and we remained friends ever since. I met Katherine when I tried choir in sixth grade, and even after I quit choir a month after I joined, we remained good friends. Liz and I met in the nurse's office one time after I got hit in the head with a hockey stick during gym class. Liz was in there with a black eye and a big smile on her face. Our first conversation began when I asked why she had a black eye, and she told me in detail how she won a fight with some preppie girl who was making fun of her.

Between the harder coursework, the whacked-out hormone levels, and the complications of school, friends, extracurricular activities, and the typical drama, Middle School was a real turmoil for Emily and I and for our friendship. But somehow, through it all, Emily and I managed to remain best friends. By eighth grade, I was already hopeless in math, but Emily was showing real potential. She was smart, and was excelling in school far beyond me. We had already begun to follow the example of our peers and separate ourselves into stereotypes, and I was sorted into the freaks and geeks category, where I remained to this day. Emily was hesitant about the stereotypes, but she followed me, and made friends with my new friends, and I made friends with hers. I met Ann and Kristen through her, and we eventually became one big, happy family. We met Janet, Taylor, and Amara our Freshman year in high school, and formed the group that I hung out with today.

I heard voices and looked up the staircase to my left. It too had the gold carpeting of the foyer and living room. At the top of the stairs was a linen closet, and it too triggered fond memories. I remembered when Emily and I were playing hide and seek in this house when we were six. I hid in the linen closet, and climbed up on one of the shelves and hid amid the towels. They were very soft, and I remembered falling asleep in them and waking up when Emily wrenched the door open and yelled "boo!" I jumped and almost fell off the shelf, and afterwards we laughed and decided to play a different game.

I approached the staircase and placed my hand on the dark wooden hand railing. Emily and I slid down the railing once before her father caught us and yelled at us. I craned my neck and looked up the stairs. I could see that her parents' bedroom door a few doors from the linen closet was open. I remembered how Emily and I once attempted to jump on their bed before we got caught. I laughed out loud and turned away from the staircase.

I looked around the house. I had been there a hundred times in my life, especially in elementary school. I slept over there many times, and during the summer, we would hang out here and go swimming in the pool in her back yard. Her mother would make us lemonade in the summer and hot cocoa in the winter. As we grew older, we made those things ourselves, but we still enjoyed many of the same things we did when we were kids.

I looked back into the living room and saw that the TV was on but muted. I smiled when I remembered watching Star Wars at Emily's house one night during a sleepover in elementary school. We watched that movie so many times at her house and mine it was ridiculous. It seemed to be the movie we enjoyed watching together most. I stopped to think about that for a while, and realized that the reason must have been because Emily was watching it for the history of the Jedi. I looked back on the years I spent with Emily, and realized that there were many signs of her true nature that I just overlooked. I was a wild and hyper little kid, but she was always much calmer and more relaxed than I ever was. Sure she was hyper occasionally as a child, and we both did stupid things, but on the whole she was much more mature and relaxed than me. There were times when she couldn't hang out with me, and whenever I asked why, she always said that she was being tutored. I let out a sigh and realized that all that "tutoring" was just her Jedi training in disguise.

When she wasn't in Jedi training, and when I wasn't busy with other things, we would spend what seemed like every spare second with each other. We were incredibly close. We were practically inseparable as children, and it seemed like we bickered every day over whose house we were going to hang out in. We spent about half our childhood at the other's house, and I always wanted to spend more time at hers. Her family was much wealthier than mine, and her house was big and her yard was huge. There would always be something for us to do there or somewhere for us to play. My house was very small and crammed, and my yard was a joke. Hers was wooded in the very back and nice and neat everywhere else. Mine had sand for soil, a pitiful little flowerbed out front, and crab grass and other weeds everywhere else. Mom was always too busy with work to do much yard work, so we never had a yard that looked special. Plus we were always so crammed in there that there was nowhere really to run around and play. We played in what yard I had and in the street whenever she went over my house.

Even though we spent far less time together now than we did back then, and we grew apart from each other slightly, we still remained great friends, and I prayed that even with these recent developments and drama in our lives that we would continue to remain friends. Even though she was a Jedi, and I was a boring little Earthling, I hoped that we could still find the time to be with each other.

I heard footsteps to my left and saw Emily coming down the stairs. She didn't look surprised to see me. She had to have sensed that I was coming. How could a Jedi not know something like that?

"What's the matter?" Emily asked as soon as she saw me. I figured that my anger was either written all over my face, or Emily could sense my emotions. Either way, I was glad that she knew I was pissed.

"Just who the hell are these people?" I hissed when she got to the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you mean?" she asked robotically.

"Don't play dumb with me," I snapped, "these fucking 'exchange students'."

"What about them?" Emily asked.

"They're real Padawans, aren't they?" I asked. "And don't try to lie to me, I know a Padawan braid when I see one."

Emily sighed. "Yes," she said, "they are real Padawans."

I knew it.

"Why the hell are they following me?" I growled, trying my hardest to keep my voice down.

"I don't understand," Emily said.

"Oh stop pretending that you don't know what's been going on," I snapped. "Having one or two classes with a couple of them is one thing, but having all of my classes with all five is quite another. They are everywhere I am, and now, to top things off, they show up at my house and claim that they are being housed in this neighborhood." I glared at Emily, but she remained calm like a good Jedi. "Now be honest with me," I said, "what the hell is going on, who are these people, why are they here, and why the hell are they following me _everywhere_?"

I waited for Emily to reply, and she seemed to be calculating her words before speaking. Finally, she said in a low and calm voice, "these Padawans are doing part of their training in this galaxy and are studying the Force's presence here."

I waited for another moment, and when Emily didn't say anything, said, "and that's it?"

"That's it," Emily said.

"You didn't answer me!" I barked.

"Keep your voice down," Emily said, "my dad is sleeping off a cold."

"You didn't answer most of my questions," I hissed in a lower voice, "I asked you why they are following me."

"They're not following you," Emily replied.

"Then why the hell are they always around me?" I asked.

Emily shrugged. "I guess it's coincidence that you got in all of your classes with them," she said, "and they're being housed in this neighborhood to be near my Master."

I nearly screamed in frustration. I wasn't going to believe for a minute that this whole thing was coincidence.

"Bull shit!" I growled. "Don't lie to me! There has got to be a reason for all this, now tell me what it is!"

Emily shrugged innocently and said, "there is no reason."

I nearly screamed, and let out a small wail of rage. I could feel the heat rising to my face and knew that I was turning red.

"Now it's my turn to ask a question," Emily said.

I glared at her. "What?" I asked.

"During that duel earlier," Emily said, "where did you learn all those moves?"

I sighed. I knew this was coming.

"I just picked up a few things while watching Star Wars," I said, "I practice their moves sometimes." I looked into Emily's annoyed face and said, "don't get all uptight about this. I didn't even do anything spectacular. The battle lasted what, two minutes?"

"What did I tell you about suspicious moves like that?" she asked.

"Oh for God's sake," I said, "you sound like my mother! Chill out! I didn't do anything special!"

"People were fawning over you afterward and begging you to teach them your skills," Emily retorted, "so yes, I'd say that was pretty special."

"Oh come on Emily," I said, "this isn't a huge deal. It's not like I blew the Jedi's cover or anything! Most people will probably forget about it tomorrow when they watch Will do a practice duel with Karl. People beg him to teach them his moves all the time, so why should my case be any different?"

Emily grumbled for a moment and then said, "just try to be discreet, will you? Please?"

"Fine, fine," I said with a roll of my eyes, "I'll try my hardest."

Emily didn't seem satisfied with my answer but gave up.

I saw movement at the top of the stairs and heard a familiar husky female voice say, "Emily, is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Master," Emily replied. I perked up as soon as she said Master, and I looked at Emily hopefully.

"Is that-" I began.

"My Jedi Master?" Emily asked. I nodded and grinned from ear to ear. Emily nodded, and I let out a squeak of joy.

"Ooh ooh," I said, bouncing up and down like a crazed fangirl, "can I meet her? Can I? Can I?"

Emily laughed and rolled her eyes. "Master Seia," she called, "Lia is beside herself and wants to meet you."

I could barely contain my excitement as I watched Emily's Master come down the stairs. To my surprise, she was wearing normal Earth clothing. She looked out of context in a pair of dark blue jeans, a tan sweater, and a pair of dark blue slippers. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore no jewelry or makeup. The simplicity of her appearance seemed to suit her.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs and stood next to me, I realized just how tall she was. She had to be at least six feet tall, and towered over me, standing at barely 5'3". She had powerful features, but maintained a touch of femininity that complimented it nicely, and her entire complexion was beautiful yet strong.

"Hello Lia," Seia said to me with a slight bow of her head, "I am Jedi Master Seia Olagan." I almost squealed for joy and was momentarily lost for words. I couldn't believe that I was meeting a real Jedi Master! This was just too cool for me to handle.

"It's very nice to meet you," I stammered, extending my hand. We shook hands, and I felt myself blush. This just took away all traces of my former bad mood.

"Emily has told me much about you," Seia replied, "nothing but good things of course. She tells me that you are 'perhaps the biggest Star Wars fan alive'. Is this correct?"

"Oh yeah!" I said with a big smile. "I'm a huge fan. I've been watching the movies since I was very small and have movies four, five, and six memorized. I've read many of the books, played the games, and I collect Star Wars merchandise."

Seia laughed. "Well," she said, "I'm glad to know that people find our history so fascinating."

"You guys have the most awesome galaxy ever!" I said.

"Now don't get carried away," Seia replied, "we have had our share of wars, dark times, and political turmoil. We are not perfect."

"I know," I said, "but you have the Jedi Order! How cool is that?"

Seia and Emily laughed, and it made me feel even more like a juvenile fangirl with no life.

"Ah man," I continued, "meeting you has just been the coolest thing ever! Every Star Wars fan's dream has just come true for me! This is so exciting!" I turned to Emily and asked, "how long has she been training you?"

"Since I was very young," Emily replied. "She would visit often throughout my childhood, pretending to be my mom's cousin. She would spend hours, and all day on the weekends, teaching me the ways of the Force. My mom is a sweetheart, but she has a weak mind, and is convinced that my Master is her cousin. Now that Seia has come to live with me, the training is almost continuous when I am at home."

"Wow!" I said. "Living with a Jedi Master! That's so awesome!" I turned to Seia, and said, "hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Seia replied.

"Is it possible for you to test the Midi-chlorian count in my blood?" I asked. Emily rolled her eyes, and Seia almost laughed at my enthusiasm. "It would make my life if I were Force-sensitive!"

Seia laughed and said, "I don't have any of the necessary equipment with me, so maybe some other time."

"Okay!" I said with an enormous smile. I prayed that she wasn't just putting me off and would really be willing to test my Midi-chlorian levels. Even though I knew that I was just a normal girl and was setting myself up for disappointment, I still hoped that I was Force-sensitive.

"It's not common practice for the Jedi to test Earth humans," Emily replied, "very few are trained in the ways of the Force, and it is always done in absolute secrecy. Earth isn't ready to know the truth yet."

"Yeah," I said, looking directly at Seia, "why is that?"

"It is the will of the council," Emily said irritably.

"I know that," I said, still keeping my eyes on Seia, "but I don't see why Emily shouldn't be able to tell her friends about her true nature. They can keep secrets, and her telling a few close friends is not exactly revealing her secret to the whole of Earth society. They're her friends and deserve to know."

"The Jedi Council has concluded that knowledge of the Force would be too dangerous in the hands of the Earth people at this point, especially the leaders," Seia responded. "The Council fears that if even a few people outside the Jedi Order know the truth, the secret will spread, and knowledge of the Force will become public. They're afraid that the Earth humans will demand to be trained in the ways of the Force, and they also fear that it will create great religious turmoil that will only serve to make your world governments even more unstable than they already are. If the corrupt leaders in this world were to acquire powers with the Force, they would use their powers for evil and become Sith, and would wreck havoc on your world, plunging it into a civil war that will tear it apart."

"But telling her friends won't do that-" I attempted to retaliate.

"The Council fears," Seia interrupted, "that a few people, even if they are sworn to secrecy, will eventually leak the secret and lead Earth to disaster. They are taking extreme precautions, and with your world in its current state, I don't blame them. Both Emily and myself support their decision, and you should as well. She cannot and will not tell anyone of her Jedi powers. You are very fortunate that she told you at all. Not even her own parents know her secret."

I remained silent. I hadn't even thought about that. She hadn't even told her own family? That was surprising. I guessed that if she didn't tell her own parents about this whole Jedi thing, she was certainly not going to tell her friends.

"But why did she tell me in the first place if it was forbidden?" I asked.

"You had already figured it out," Emily replied, "I figured that if I kept my cover, you'd go ranting to your friends, and they would begin to suspect too. Telling you and making you swear to secrecy was the only way to get you to shut up."

Great. That just made me feel wonderful.

"Look," I said, "if I figured it out, don't you think it's just possible that they might figure it out too? Don't you think you should tell them and shut them up to?"

"No," Emily said, "you were a special case, and the Council allowed you to possess the knowledge of the Jedi, but no one else has that privilege."

"But why-" I began.

"Just drop it, okay?" Emily said irritably. "The Council is never going to allow it, and I am never going to tell anyone else. So stop this."

I grumbled an "all right" and shut up.

"Anyway," Emily said, grabbing me by the shoulders, "Master Seia and I must get back to my training, and you have math homework due tomorrow.

"Yes mother," I grumbled, "that means I'm going then. I know when I'm not wanted."

I trudged over to the door and Emily opened it for me. I waved to Seia and said, "it was nice meeting you."

"Same to you, Lia," Seia said. Emily ushered me outside and closed the door behind her.

"Would you please just drop this?" Emily snapped at me.

"No," I said, "this isn't right."

"What do I need to do to get you to stop?" Emily asked.

"Telling me why these Padawans are following me and what they want from me would be a start," I said.

"I already told you-" Emily started.

"Don't try to fool me," I said, "I know a cover story when I hear one. If you answer my questions truthfully, I might stop hounding you about this."

"I can't do that," Emily grumbled.

"SEE?" I said, pointing at Emily. "I knew there was more going on here! I knew it! These Padawans are on some secret mission that somehow has to do with me that you don't want me knowing about!"

"Now don't jump to conclusions-" Emily began.

"What else could it be?" I asked. "What else could possibly be so secretive?"

Emily sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lia," she said dismissively.

"Oh, and now you're just going to push me away and hope that I'll drop it and the issue will just magically go away by itself?" I exclaimed.

"Good night, Lia," Emily said through gritted teeth.

I huffed at her and walked over to my bike. I hopped on, turned on my headlight, and called, "we're not finished here, you know!"

Emily waved at me, and I swore loudly all the way down her driveway. I continued to curse to myself as I peddled back toward my house.


	16. Energy Drinks

**Chapter 16**

**Energy Drinks**

Mom exploded when I got home. I thought her tirade would never end. After half an hour of listening to her rant and rave about how she didn't raise me to be like this and blah blah blah, she grounded me by taking away my Playstation 2 for two weeks. Great, so much for playing Final Fantasy. How am I supposed to find out what happens now? That's just wonderful. Way to drag out a cliffhanger, Mom.

When she finished, she sent me back to my room to do homework and forbade me from turning the TV on. I didn't mind. There wasn't anything on anyway now that Star Wars was over.

I chugged away on my homework for the rest of the night. At around midnight, I decided to say "fuck it" and went to bed. I had five more algebra problems to go, which was the equivalent of two more hours worth of work, but I couldn't give a shit about math anymore. I was going to bed at a reasonable hour, and nothing was going to stop me.

It took me a while to fall asleep because of my nap, but my body and mind eventually relaxed enough to put me to sleep.

I found myself in the shower, humming the Star Wars overture as I shampooed my hair. The hot water and steam was wonderfully refreshing, and I felt very warm and relaxed. I scrubbed myself down with a loofah, and when I finished rinsing off, I turned off the water. I opened the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub and into the steam in the bathroom. Despite the warmth of the steam, goose bumps spread across my body, and I shivered. I went over to the linen closet across from the shower, and opened the door. I grabbed a green towel from the shelf, closed the door, turned around, and screamed when I saw a Padawan standing inches from me and staring at me with an expressionless face.

I woke up screaming, and sat bolt upright. I shook my head rapidly and tried to clear the memory of the disturbing dream. I looked over at my clock, and when I saw that it was only 3:30 in the morning, I fell onto my bed and went back to sleep.

I dropped my lightsaber and cowered back in fear as the cloaked and hooded figure approached me. I fell onto the floor, and the figure continued to approach. I whimpered and wanted to cry. I wanted nothing more than to flee this place. The figure stopped in front of me, bent his knees, and slowly knelt to the ground. I cried more intensely now that our faces were at the same level. I looked into the hood, but could see only darkness.

A buzzing and a ringing sound interrupted my thoughts and made the scene vanish. I woke up in my bed, and heard my alarm clock buzzing and the phone ringing loudly. I groaned, turned my head, and looked at my alarm clock.

"SHIT!" I screamed when I saw that it was 7:30. "Not again!"

I leapt out of bed, quickly got ready for school, and stormed out of my room. I zipped by my mom, who was leaning against the kitchen counter and talking into the phone. I ran out of the house and sped down the street on my bike.

I stormed into room 224 a few minutes after the bell rang, got yelled at by Mrs. Duble, and took my seat. Katherine scolded me as usual, and Mrs. Duble yelled at me again when she saw that I didn't finish my homework. Emily glared at me, and the Padawans stared at me like they always did. I put my head down on the desk and wished someone would just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

To make my day worse, I went to U.S. History and found that all of the Padawans were in yet another one of my classes. When I saw this, I gave Emily a look that could kill someone and took my seat. Emily grunted in annoyance and sat down as well.

After the bell rang to begin class, Mr. Magallon wasted no time in torturing us. He clapped his hands a few times to shut us up, smiled evilly, and said, "I have good news, everyone!"

This couldn't be good.

"I always feel that history is better experienced outside of lectures," he said. "If the student is engaged in the history, the student is more likely to actually remember the material, right?" He raised an eyebrow at us, and a few people nodded obediently. "Therefore," he continued, "I'm going to give you a book."

The class moaned, and I swore maybe a little too loudly. It was bad enough that I had to read the damn Scarlet Letter! Another assigned book was the _last_ thing I needed on my plate.

"Oh yes," he said, "I think you'll love it, because it's a historical fiction novel set in the Great War of the Mid-Eighteenth Century, and is in my opinion one of the best works of American literature."

Oh god. This _really_ couldn't be good.

He grabbed his keys off his desk and told us to follow him to the supply closet on the fourth floor. I got out of my seat and trudged with the rest of the class down two flights of stairs and to the supply closet. I kept my distance from the Padawans, Emily, and Dylan, and cursed Mr. Magallon under my breath the whole way downstairs. I could swear he knew I was busy and assigned the book now intentionally. He was sadistic and a total asshole.

We formed a line, and he handed us books one by one. A few feet back, I could hear Emily talking to Kabea.

"She's in another bad mood," said Kabea, "is she _always_ this angry?"

"Not usually," Emily replied, "she may lose her temper easily and tend to be grumpy in the morning, but this constant bad mood is unusual, and has me a little worried."

"Do you think it has anything to do with him?" Kabea asked.

"Not consciously," Emily said, "she can't sense his presence, and has no clue that he even exists. But I suppose he could be affecting her on an unconscious level."

"Or something else is bothering her," Kabea replied, "I wish I could see what. It's times like these that make me wish I weren't still in training."

"I know," said Emily, "I've often wished that I could read her thoughts as well, but only someone fully-trained will be able to do that."

What in all of hell were they talking about? Emily was just getting weirder and weirder by the day.

"Maybe talking to her will help," Kabea suggested.

"She's annoyed with me," Emily said, "talking to her about it will only make things worse."

"Will it really make that big of a difference?" Kabea asked.

"Yes," Emily said, "I think the best course of action is to try to get her to suppress her anger and calm down."

"She's so high strung," Kabea said, "she's so much like her it's scary."

"If you saw her in one of her lighter moods, you'd think differently," Emily countered. "There are differences between them."

"You seem too fond of her," Kabea said darkly. "Are you forgetting your mission?"

"Of course not!" Emily barked. "I've kept true to my orders, and I think I've carried them out pretty well under the circumstances."

"You have," Kabea said, "but that may not be for long. Has Seia told you yet?"

"Told me what?" Emily asked in annoyance.

"Master Yenzhou told the other four and I that he's managed to get even closer to her despite our efforts."

"Shit," Emily said. My jaw dropped. Emily wasn't the swearing type. What kind of calamity brought this on?

"After everything we've done?" Emily asked.

"Apparently," Kabea answered, "Master Yenzhou is going to try something different in a few days."

"Let's hope it works," Emily said. "The longer she's in ignorance the better."

What the fuck were they babbling about? Something to do with the Jedi obviously, but what the hell was this all about?

They stopped talking, and soon it was my turn to get a book. Mr. Magallon pulled a tattered paperback off the shelf and handed it to me. I was fortunate enough to get a copy with two covers, but there were large chunks missing out of the corners of half the pages. I wished someone would give the school a loan to replace some of these books. They were an embarrassment to Central High.

On the cover was a landscape drawing and the words "James Fenimore Cooper: The Last of the Mohicans." I frowned. I saw that movie last year and hated it, and the last thing I wanted to do was read the stupid book. Cursing under my breath, I plodded out of the supply closet and back to the classroom.

After everyone got back and settled down, Mr. Magallon began lecturing us on the context of the book and the historical inaccuracies. I had a hard time not nodding off, and next to me, Dylan looked like he was sleeping with his head up. Luckily, Mr. Magallon didn't notice him; otherwise he would have been pissed and taken it out on all of us. Dylan was a real idiot. If he got Mr. Magallon pissed off, I was going to hit him.

I tried to pay attention to the lecture, but I just didn't care about any of this crap. I knew that if I didn't pay attention I was going to fail the next quiz, but I was so annoyed with everything that I didn't give a shit if I failed or not. I just wanted this day to be over with. Tomorrow was the weekend, and all I wanted was some time off. This week had really been straining.

I concealed a yawn and resisted the temptation to put my head on the desk. Not only was Mr. Magallon's droning putting me to sleep, but I also didn't feel rested. It felt like I got no sleep, even though I made an effort to go to bed early. I hadn't slept very soundly last night, and concluded that it must have been the result of that damn dream. I looked back on the past week, and realized that that had to be it. I hadn't been sleeping right since I started having that stupid nightmare, and it never failed to make me grumpy when I woke up.

I was starting to grow concerned that I was having that dream every time I fell asleep. I knew that sometimes dreams recurred, but this was ridiculous. It scared the hell out of me, and it was really starting to get annoying. I debated with myself for a while over whether to consult Emily about it. I knew that she was probably the only person who could tell me what it meant, but something told me not to. Some nagging little voice in the back of my mind told me to keep it a secret and deal with it myself. Every time I tried to argue against it, it grew even more persistent, until eventually I gave in and decided to keep my mouth shut.

Dylan snorted, started to flop over, and jolted awake. He stared wide-eyed at the chalkboard and looked delirious, and I prayed that Mr. Magallon hadn't heard him. Luckily, he was so engaged in his lecture that he didn't notice a thing. However, I knew that if Dylan fell asleep again there was a greater chance that Mr. Magallon would notice him. I gave Dylan a warning glare, but he didn't notice me.

After a few more minutes, however, Dylan looked ready to fall asleep again. His head bobbed around, and his eyes kept drooping shut. I couldn't take this anymore. I didn't feel like hearing Mr. Magallon bitch because of Dylan's stupidity. When Mr. Magallon turned his back to write on the board, I reached across the aisle and kicked Dylan's foot. He snapped awake, make a small grunting noise, and after a few seconds of delirium, glared at me. I glared back and turned to face the front again. Hopefully he got the hint and would stay awake.

I then proceeded to doodle in the margins of my notebook, and ceased to pay the slightest bit of attention to what the teacher was saying. Maybe in any other class I would be interested in this stuff and would pay attention more often. However, Mr. Magallon was as boring as a rock, and he managed to make even the most interesting topics incredibly boring. I didn't want to listen to him anymore. I had had enough of him and this class. I knew we were going to get a pop quiz on this stuff next class, and I knew I was going to fail. Oh well. Maybe I could convince Emily to let me look at her notes before class on Monday.

After a while, I found myself sketching a human face. I continued to sketch, and saw that the face was of a man with an expression of cold indifference. I sketched his entire head, the short hair, the neck, and the shoulders. I completely lost track of what Mr. Magallon was talking about and became immersed in my drawing. My sketch was horrible, lopsided, and carelessly done, but there was still a sense of life to him. He was very handsome, but he kind of creeped me out. The longer I stared at him, the more he scared me. However, despite this, all I wanted to do was stare at him longer. His face seemed to hold me under some sort of spell that prevented me from looking away.

I felt someone breathing on the back of my neck, and I snapped out of my trance. I spun around and found Emily leaning forward in her seat and looking over my shoulder. She had a look on her face that resembled surprise, worry, and anger. Annoyed, I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed a "what?" Emily looked from my paper to me, shook her head, and sat back. Her face contorted into a stronger expression of worry, and I turned around in confusion and annoyance. I glanced around, and saw that all the Padawans were staring at me as well. I glared at the nearest one, and they all turned to face the front. I grumbled under my breath and turned to face the front as well. Mr. Magallon was writing the weekend's homework assignment on the board. I almost swore out loud when I saw that it was fifty pages of reading. What, did this guy assume that we had no life or something? Did these teachers just assume that we had nothing better to do with our lives than do homework all the time? Was that it?

I copied down the assignment, and as Mr. Magallon began to ramble on again about something to do with the book's setting, the bell rang to end class. I rejoiced out loud, grabbed my stuff, and darted out of the room. When I got to the cafeteria, I jumped in line and started picking out what I wanted to eat.

Behind the counter and Plexiglas shield, a few women in hairnets and latex gloves shoveled some frozen French fries out of plastic bags and into the fryer. A few others threw together chicken patty sandwiches, while another cut up the school pizza that I always swore was made of cardboard and string cheese. I looked at the variety of hot foods the school had to offer today and grimaced. Crappy cheese pizza, salt-less French fries, overly processed chicken patties on a bun, charcoaled hamburgers, and lukewarm meatball subs. I looked to my left at the cold, pre-packaged sandwich rack across from the hot food line. The variety of sandwiches never changed, but they were always pretty decent, and they provided one with something to eat when the cooked food was exceptionally crappy.

I scanned the sandwich selection: turkey, tuna, chicken salad, egg salad, ham, and roast beef, all on the blandest white bread rolls with a leaf of limp lettuce, a slice of tomato, and a slice of American cheese. I sighed. I was tired of the sandwich selection, and I didn't feel like eating any of them, but it was that, the crappy cooked food, or nothing. I chose to eat something decent and grabbed a ham sandwich.

Next to the sandwiches was the junk food rack with a variety of crackers, cookies, fruit gummies, and chips. I grabbed a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips and moved further down the line. I peeked into the drink coolers and saw the same varieties of milk and juice that had been there since my Freshman year. I scanned the selection, decided I didn't want any of them, and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler next to it instead.

I moved on to the checkout line, bought my food, and proceeded immediately to my usual table. As I approached, I saw that the Padawans were sitting on chairs at our table again. I groaned. I had hoped that Liz's behavior yesterday would deter them from ever sitting with us again. I know it would have deterred me.

I sat down and immediately started eating my food. Across from me, Liz was pounding her drumsticks on the table and banging her head up and down violently. Caitlyn shielded her laptop and scooted as far away as she could. To Liz's left, Ann was cringing every time the drumsticks passed too close to her, and she scooted left to avoid being hit by them. Everyone at the table was staring at her in silence, and I wondered what was going on. After a little while, Liz started to scream lyrics from random heavy metal songs while drumming as hard as she could.

"ANOTHER VICTIM DIES TO-NII-IIIGHT, RAH RAH, AND LIE TO ME!" Liz cried, banging her head harder.

"Jesus!" I said while backing away to avoid being hit by the tips of the drumsticks. "What the hell is wrong with you today?"

"NEVER FUCKING LIE TO ME!" Liz continued, either not hearing or just ignoring me.

I looked at my friends quizzically, and Katherine pointed to a section of the table in between Liz's chest and the drumsticks. Sitting on the table, hidden by the drumsticks' rapid movement, was a jumbo-sized can of a caffeinated energy drink.

"Oh no," I said in horror, "how much of that has she drunk?"

"Over half," Katherine replied.

"Shit," I said, eating faster. "And you let her drink all that? Are you nuts? What were you thinking?"

"She drank most of it before lunch," Arleen said, "she was sipping it all through English when the teacher wasn't looking, and she just started chugging it when she got here before we could stop her."

"What is this substance?" Thykos asked.

"It's an energy drink," Emily responded. "It has a very high taurine, vitamin B, sugar, and caffeine content. Drinking too much can make you hyper."

"You don't know about energy drinks?" Janet asked.

"It's not sold in some parts of Europe, and for good reason," Katherine said, looking at Liz.

"And what is the purpose of this drink?" Galon asked.

"It's meant to keep you awake and alert," Emily replied, "students often use it when they're up late doing homework or studying. However, some people just drink for fun."

"And this is what happens when they drink too much," Arleen replied.

Liz put down her drumsticks for a moment, picked up her can, and started chugging the energy drink again. We protested, and Katherine and I tried to grab the can from her.

"Enough, Liz!" Katherine said. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Auw come on!" Liz cried, hugging her can to her chest. "It's so yummy!"

"You're going to make yourself sick," Katherine replied, "now stop drinking it and give me the can."

"No!" Liz cried, batting our hands away. "It's my yummy, and I'm going to drink it." She took another swig, shook her head rapidly, and cheered.

"I love this stuff!" she exclaimed. She bounced up and down in her seat and started to giggle and hiccup. She shuddered a couple of times, stood up, and started to dance.

"Have you eaten anything with that stuff?" Caitlyn asked.

"Nope," Liz replied, "who needs food?"

"Great," Taylor said, "that stuff's gonna take forever to wear off, then."

"I'm bringin' sexy back!" Liz sang while starting to do a sexy dance. Several of us rolled our eyes, and Liz danced away and over to one of the gothic tables.

"Finally," Caitlyn groaned, "a little bit of peace!"

"She gets annoying after a while," Kristen said, rubbing her brow with her thumb and index finger.

"Yes, she can be like that," I said.

"I just hope she's calmer by tonight," Taylor said, "I'm going downtown with her, and if she's still like this, I may just desert her."

"I'm going with her too," I replied, "I don't have a ride, but that's not stopping me. Who else here is going?"

"I am," said Arleen, "Caitlyn's mom is giving us rides."

"Can I get a ride too?" Lita asked. "Otherwise I can't go."

"Sure," Caitlyn answered, "you live near me, so it's not out of the way for us."

"I can't go," Kristen said, "I have an English paper due Monday that I haven't started yet. If I go out tonight instead of working on that, my dad's gonna kill me."

"Auw, that's too bad," Janet responded.

"You going?" Taylor asked her.

"Yeah," Janet replied, "my sister's giving Ann and I a ride."

Ann smiled, and I smiled in return.

"I'm definitely going," said Katherine, "all I do is go to school, do homework, and go to voice lessons. I need a change of scenery before I go insane."

We laughed, and Emily cleared her throat. We all shut up immediately. I suddenly felt bad for leaving her out of the conversation.

"Do you want to go too?" Taylor asked.

"I think it would be fun," Emily replied, "and would it be all right if the exchange students went too?"

"Absolutely!" Katherine and Lita exclaimed, making Caitlyn and I jump.

"Great," Emily said with a smile. "Where are we meeting?"

"The Main Street Mall main entrance at six O'clock," Taylor replied.

"Sounds great," Emily said, "we will meet you there." She turned to me and said, "Lia, do you need a ride? My mom would be happy to give you one."

"No thanks," I said, "I'm taking my bike."

"Do you think that's wise?" Taylor asked. "We could be out as late as 11 when some of our curfews begin. Do you think it's safe to ride your bike home that late?"

"Yeah, why not?" I asked. "I have a headlight."

"Still," Katherine said, "you'll be alone, and I'll just worry about you all night."

"Oh come on," I said, "what is the matter all of a sudden? I ride my bike everywhere all the time. What's the big deal? I'll be fine!"

"No, you won't," Katherine said firmly, "now stop being stubborn and let Emily give you a ride. Otherwise I'll make you ride with me in my mom's car."

"Jeez," I said, "fine, if you're all going to be so insistent, I'll get a ride with Emily."

"Thank you," Katherine replied. I raised an eyebrow at her. She sounded so much like a mother it was scary. I personally didn't see what the big deal was. I was perfectly capable of handling myself. Why didn't anyone else realize that? What did I need to do to convince these people that I was fine?

Just then, Liz came running toward our table, followed closely by Amara, Gary, and a gothic girl with purple pigtail braids.

"Liz, get back here this instant!" Gary shouted.

"Here I come!" Liz cried, continuing to jog through the freak and geek section of the cafeteria.

"Liz, you're going to get yourself lynched!" the gothic girl cried.

"Wooooooo!" Liz shouted, running faster. She held her fist out in front of her and ran at full speed by our table, through the hippie section, and to my horror, into the preppie section. Amara, Gary, the goth, Taylor, and I gasped, and watched in horror as Liz approached a group of preppie girls in cheerleader uniforms. Liz waved, sat on their table, and started chatting with them. The cheerleaders looked on in revulsion and horror.

"Oh shit," Caitlyn said, "this could be bad."

Amara, Gary, and the goth looked at our table, and we all stared at each other trying to figure out what to do. Liz continued to chat with the preppies, and she raised her eyebrows at a cheerleader with a blonde ponytail. Amara gasped in horror.

"Oh man," Amara cried, "quick everyone, we gotta stop Liz before she does something stupid!"

Caitlyn, Taylor, Katherine, and I leapt from the table and joined Gary, Amara, and the goth. We ran toward Liz, and I clenched my jaw and fists as we entered the preppie section. I hated being there more than anything, and Liz so owed me for this. Oh, the things I'd do for friends!

We found Liz sitting on the table nibbling on someone else's sandwich and gesturing vulgarly at the blonde cheerleader. In between nibbles, she was singing random lyrics from pop songs. The cheerleaders either looked ready to throw up or ready to beat the crap out of Liz.

"Get off our table you little bitch," a brunette cheerleader scoffed at Liz.

"Ya, like, what is your problem?" another cheerleader with way too much mascara said. "Did you like forget to take your pills this morning or something?"

Liz continued to sing, and started to giggle.

"Get the hell off the table or we will force you off," the brunette warned.

"Yeah," the blonde said, "and you're paying for that sandwich, by the way."

"Certainly," Liz said, "will a lap dance be enough?"

The blonde looked ready to scream, and the girls groaned in revulsion.

"That is SO disgusting, you little slut!" a size zero cheerleader said, wrinkling her nose at Liz.

"Like, oh my god, this girl is like so totally messed up," the mascara girl said very loudly to the size zero girl next to her. They both sniggered, but Liz didn't look offended. She stared dreamily at the blonde, and the brunette looked ready to snap.

"You gonna leave or what?" she asked Liz.

"Auw, come on, why?" Liz asked.

"Because you're disgusting and we hate you, that's why," the blonde replied.

"Shit," Gary said, "we'd better do something, NOW!"

We walked closer, and the cheerleaders glared at us.

"Great," the brunette said, "more of them. What the hell do you want?"

"We're just here to retrieve our friend," Amara said, looking at the brunette in disdain.

"Well, good," the mascara girl said, "because she was starting to, like, get on our nerves."

"Come on Lizzy," Amara said, "you ready to go now?"

"No," Liz said, folding her arms.

"Come on Lizzy," Amara continued, "Gary's waiting over here and wants to see you."

Liz said nothing and remained seated. The rest of us walked over to the table.

"Get off the table, Liz," Caitlyn said, "and let's get out of here before we get swallowed by all the pink."

"Why?" Liz asked.

"Because," the goth said, "we miss you back there. It's not the same without you."

"Really?" Liz asked, looking hopeful.

My God! I had never seen Liz this hyper or crazy before.

"Now let's go," the goth said, extending her hand.

"I wanna stay longer!" Liz wailed, recoiling from her outstretched hand.

We rolled our eyes, sighed, and tried to figure out what to next. The cheerleaders glared at us as if they were trying to rip us in two with their eyes, and we decided that it was time for desperate measures. We each took positions around Liz, and the cheerleaders, sensing what we were about to do, got up and got out of our way.

"Ready?" Amara asked. We all nodded. "Now!"

We each grabbed Liz simultaneously. Liz screamed, wailed, and thrashed around in protest, but we held fast.

"You have two options, Liz," Amara said, "you can either go with us quietly, or we can drag you back. Either way, you are done here."

"You guys are mean!" Liz wailed.

"So what will it be?" Amara asked firmly.

Liz sighed and went limp. "I guess my fun's over," she said in a defeated tone. "Take me home."

We then proceeded to carry her back to the freak and geek section of the cafeteria. By then, we had attracted a lot of attention, and a good portion of the cafeteria was staring at us. I felt very embarrassed as I helped carry Liz back to our table. She owed us big time for this.

By the time we got back to the freak and geek section, most of the cafeteria was staring at us. I felt myself blush, and I was ready to punch Liz just to get some payback. We deposited Liz in her usual seat at our table and told her to stay. Liz whimpered, and Amara, Gary, and the goth walked away. The situation was like trying to train a puppy.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Caitlyn immediately said when Liz was all settled in.

"They were hot," Liz said, "so I went over to say hello."

"Liz," Katherine scolded, "you do not eat other people's food, and you don't sit on tables. Is that perfectly understood?"

"And you certainly don't sit with the preppies," I added.

"Auw come on," Liz whined, "can't I have a little fun once in a while?"

"No," Katherine said, "when you are hyped up on those stupid energy drinks, you are to stay put at this table until you fully calm down. Is that understood?"

"Better yet," Taylor added, "you are not allowed to drink energy drinks while at school ever again!"

Liz's jaw dropped, and she looked ready to scream. The rest of the people at the table nodded in agreement, and Liz started to protest.

"No 'buts'," Katherine replied, "these things affect you way too much. We are forbidding you from drinking them in school for your own good, you know."

Liz put her head on the table and mumbled, "you guys are so mean."

She remained quiet, and I sighed in relief and finished my lunch. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that lunch was over in five minutes. When I finished the last of my potato chips, I stood up.

"I'll see you guys later," I said.

"Bye," Lita said, waving to me.

I waved back and headed out of the cafeteria and toward the locker rooms.


	17. Fire Drill

**Chapter 17**

**Fire Drill**

As I traversed the nearly deserted hallways, I looked out the windows and into the school courtyard beyond. The sun was shining brilliantly, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. A few leaves propelled by the light breeze rolled around the courtyard patio. A large group of people were eating lunch on the benches and the grass out there, and outside one window, a group of hippies were playing with a hackie-sack. It looked like a gorgeous autumn day out there. I looked forward to the bike ride home.

I arrived at my locker and dialed the combination. When I opened the door, my lacrosse stick flopped over and landed on the floor. Two library books, my sweatshirt, and old sandwich, and my Chemistry binder followed it, and I had to lunge to the side to avoid all the stuff as it came crashing down. I swore, scooped up my things, and shoved them back in the locker. I grabbed the bag with my clean gym clothes, put my backpack away, and quickly shut the door, trapping everything inside.

The lacrosse stick reminded me of the upcoming lacrosse game tomorrow morning against Eastman High School. Even though my concussion kept me from playing, Coach Schlater always insisted that even injured players attend all of the games to cheer on their teammates. I didn't want to go, but I knew I had no choice. I didn't want to ride down to Eastman on a bus jammed full of preppies. I especially didn't want to ride the bus back and listen to Coach Schlater scream at us the whole way because we lost. We sucked so badly that I knew we were inevitably going to lose. Then, we would have to pay for it during practice next Tuesday. Oh joy. These few upcoming days sounded like so much fun.

I proceeded immediately to the girl's locker room. The room was relatively empty when I got there, and there was no one in line at the bathroom stalls. I quickly grabbed an empty stall and changed my clothes. While I changed, I heard the bell to end lunch ring. Soon after, I heard several more people enter the locker room, talking and giggling as they came. When I finished changing my clothes, I exited the stalls, and found that a line had already begun to form. I was glad that I got there early for a change.

I sat down on one of the wooden benches in the locker area and put my sneakers on. As I tied the laces, a nearby preppie, wearing nothing but her underwear, was putting her books in a gym locker. She was incredibly thin and very pretty by most people's standards. Her breasts must have been a size A, and there was a complete absence of hips. She had a silver bellybutton ring and a small heart tattooed near the top of her panty. I looked away before anyone caught me looking at her, and grumbled under my breath.

I wished that I were as thin and pretty as her. Even though I despised preppies, I was always jealous of the way they looked. I was pretty fit, but I was nowhere near as tone and thin as these girls. I couldn't help but think about what Aurora had said yesterday. I wished I were a smaller size. I wished that I were as thin, pretty, and desirable as these girls. I was in no way a slut, but I wanted to at least attract attention. I was sixteen years old, and was starting to think that I wanted to go out with someone. However, as I started to look for nice guys to date, I realized that no one was even mildly interested in me. Maybe it was because I had a short temper and could be a bitch at times. Maybe it was because I was not as thin and pretty as these girls. I never wore makeup, never styled my hair, wore plain clothes, wasn't that thin, and was a complete nerd. As I reflected on myself, I found that I was one of the last girls most guys would want to go out with.

I stood up and threw my hair into a ponytail. I hoped that someday I would find someone who wouldn't measure me in terms of these preppies and would want to go out with me anyway. Even though I sincerely doubted that, I couldn't help but want to hope.

I headed out of the locker room and into the gym. Today was the third and final day of the dodgeball tournament, and I was glad that this stupid thing would be over with soon. However, I knew that after this week, we would stop fooling around and would be forced to do real exercise. And to top it off, my concussion will have healed by then, so I wouldn't have an excuse not to participate. I dreaded what the next gym activity would be.

When I entered the gym, I saw Russell standing by the folded up bleachers sulking. When he saw me, he stormed off in a huff. I laughed. He was such a sore loser. I knew he'd get over it eventually, but watching his current fit was fun. He would no doubt avoid me all class and wouldn't speak to me, and I didn't mind it. He tended to drive me nuts anyway.

I looked around and wasn't at all surprised to find that all the Padawans were in my gym class. I kept my distance from them, and they didn't even attempt to approach me. My outburst at dinner last night must have successfully communicated my hatred to them. Good. I hated being near them anyway.

I sat down on the gym floor and stretched out my legs. They were stiff from all the bike rides, and I always neglected to stretch them afterwards, so stretching them now felt good. I knew I needed to take better care of myself. I knew I needed to eat better, stretch my muscles, get more sleep, and not play so many video games and watch so much TV. I knew I needed to be more studious, do my homework well and in its entirety, and get help in math. I laughed. Even though I needed to do all these things, I knew that I was never going to. There was just no changing some aspects of yourself, and I accepted that.

The rest of the class filed into the gym as the bell rang. The classes crowded around the gym teachers in the center of the gymnasium and sat down on the floor. Russell sat far away from me and kept shooting me glares. I laughed and waved tauntingly at him, and he stuck his tongue out at me. I laughed again. He was such a baby.

The teachers blabbed on for a while about the scores. Apparently, my class was in last place. I chuckled. It must have had to do with the fact that Russell and I were on the team.

The teachers dismissed us, and we broke up into teams and started playing. I went to one end of the gym with the rest of my team and headed toward the back wall. Russell took a position on the back wall as far away from me as possible. I looked around and saw that the Padawans were among my teammates. Great. Not only did they have PE class this period, but they had _my _PE class on top of it all. This was just wonderful.

One of the teachers blew his whistle, and the game began.

The enthusiastic players on both sides darted toward the center of the gym, grabbed a ball, and chucked it at the opposite side. A few people were hit, and those left standing backed away from the centerline. Several balls whizzed by me and I ducked out of the way and covered my head. Russell pretended to get hit by a ball that was three feet away from him and sat down. I laughed and prepared to do the same when a ball came my way again.

The Padawans, thoroughly confused about the object of the game, tried to imitate what the people around them were doing. They dodged the balls that came near them, and tried to figure out what to do. Bryce picked up a ball that rolled near his feet and threw it at someone on the other side of the gym. He must have used the Force to guide it, because it hit a jock guy square on the head, even though he had tried to catch it. I scoffed. Emily harped on me about suspicious moves, and yet these people could use the Force at will and not get so much as a comment? This wasn't fair.

The Padawans eventually figured out the game, but still didn't fully participate in it. With the Force on their side, they had no trouble dodging the balls, and every time they threw a ball back, it hit someone. I was surprised that no one found this suspicious. Maybe it was just me they found suspicious. I was willing to believe anything at this point.

Kabea screeched and ducked as four dodgeballs sailed over her head. I saw Mader cover his head and yell, "what is the purpose of this?" Thykos jumped out of the way as another dodgeball sailed by his chest. They all looked so confused. It was hilarious. I was thoroughly enjoying this spectacle. Like Russell and I, they clearly didn't understand the point of this stupid game.

A dodgeball hit a girl near them on the shin, and she sat down. When the Padawans saw this, they too sat down. I laughed out loud and looked around to see if there was a dodgeball nearby that I could claim hit me.

I turned to face the front, and immediately saw a ball heading at full speed right for me. I yelped and instinctively extended my arms. The ball landed in my outstretched arms, and the guy on the other side of the gym who had thrown it screamed a few swear words and sat down.

I looked in awe at the dodgeball cradled in my arms and couldn't believe that I actually managed to catch one. A jock nearly a foot taller than me walked over and held out his hands.

"Hey thanks for catching one," he said, "now give me the ball."

"Why should I give it to you?" I asked. "Shouldn't I throw it at someone now?"

"Well, yeah," the jock replied, "but you can't throw it. Someone will just catch it, and you'll have lost us a ball. Just make it easier for the team and give me the ball. I'll be able to handle it for you."

I gritted my teeth and glared at him. I felt an intense rage boil in my chest, and it made me tremble. How dare that bastard tell me I couldn't do something! No one ordered me around. No one told me what I could and could not do. And most importantly, no one ever underestimated me.

"You think I can't do something as simple as throw a fucking ball?" I growled. The guy sighed in impatience and snapped his fingers.

"There's more to it than that," he said, continuing to snap his fingers. "Now hurry up and give me the ball."

I snarled in rage and glared more intensely at him. I glanced over at the other side of the gym. I was going to prove this bastard wrong. I was going to prove that I could do anything. I was going to make sure that neither he nor anyone else ever underestimated by abilities ever again.

I gripped the ball tightly and ran over to the centerline. The jock yelled at me to come back, but I ignored him. I caught sight of the nearest jock on the opposing team and headed right for him. As I ran, I prepared the throw the ball. I threw it as hard as I could at him, using my momentum to add power to my throw. The jock was caught by surprise, and the ball slammed hard into his chest. He sat down obediently and looked around to see who had gotten him out. As I ran back toward the back wall, someone threw a ball at me. It skimmed off my legs, and when I reached the back wall, I sat down. I gave the jock who insulted me a glare and folded my arms. He and several other people on both teams looked at me with disbelief, and I stuck my nose in the air in smug pride. That showed them.

After a few minutes of watching the remaining jock guys and girls chuck dodgeballs at each other, a white light near the ceiling started flashing. I jumped when I suddenly heard the very loud and distinctive noise of the fire alarm. Everyone stood up, dropped the dodgeballs, and followed the teachers out of the gymnasium.

"May I have your attention please," the male robotic voice of the fire alarm said loudly. "May I have your attention please. A fire alarm has been activated in the building. Please proceed to the nearest exit."

The fire alarm siren echoed off the gym walls and reverberated painfully in my ears. I covered my ears, but could still hear the siren blaring loudly.

The gym classes integrated themselves into the crowd of people heading through the exits and became separated. I obediently followed the mass of people through the doors, across the courtyard, and into the school's driveway and parking lot.

It was total chaos outside. What appeared to be the entire population of Central High School was crammed in the parking lot and lawns surrounding the school. Everyone was running around and chatting merrily with each other, and the teachers were trying to get everyone to back up and clear the driveway. I obeyed the teachers and headed up a grassy knoll next to the driveway. At the top, I had a clearer view of the scene around me. At the bottom of the knoll, I saw a straight couple making out, someone trying to read a book amid all the noise and pushing and shoving, and some gothic guy chugging a two-liter bottle of soda. A crowd of girls in black stood in a circle and giggled at a Freshman boy, who stood in the center of the circle and looked very scared. A little ways up the hill, one guy had another guy in a headlock. In a secluded corner of the parking lot, a group of hippies were playing Frisbee. Everyone around me was horsing around, chatting, and was thoroughly glad to be out of class for a few minutes.

I looked around to see who was on the little hill with me. A group of preppies were cackling and giggling, probably about something stupid, and one of them was adjusting her makeup and admiring her reflection in the compact mirror. A little ways away from them, three hippies were attempting to play hackie sack amid the large crowd. They ended up kicking a few people around them, and the hackie sack always hit someone when they lost control of it. Those around them got annoyed and told them to stop, and the hippies looked upset that their game was over.

I caught sight of a mass of black clothing out of the corner of my eye. I turned around and saw the distinct spiked black hair of Liz bobbing up and down amid the crowd of people. I looked closely, and saw Liz, obviously still hyper from the energy drink, dancing around like a maniac. Around her, her gothic friends were clapping, jumping up and down, and chanting "NUMA NUMA!" The people around stared at them, but the goths took no notice. They were too busy fooling around to care about what normal people thought of them.

The teachers were finally able to get enough people to listen to their orders, and everyone backed up and cleared the way for the fire trucks that were heading up the driveway. The fire trucks meant that this was no drill. I wondered what had happened. The people around me were wondering the same thing.

"Maybe there was a mishap in one of the Chemistry labs," a girl next to me said to someone nearby. "That's what happened last year. Remember that fire alarm in the rain? That was the result of someone in my class who was careless and dropped a huge wad of steel wool into a Bunsen burner and caught their notebook on fire."

"Ya," a guy next to her said, "or something in the Physics lab. Two years ago, the AP Physics teacher set off the fire alarm when he was stupid enough to release CO2 gas out of an apparatus right under the CO2 censor."

"Nah," a guy next to him said, "this is no accident. Someone totally pulled it. Look how nice it is out here."

I smiled. He was right. It was a warm and glorious day outside, and the last thing I wanted to do right now was go back into the dark school.

As two firefighters and a cop went into the building, I saw Emily and the Padawans heading up the hill toward me. I tried to slip away unnoticed, but with no success. They caught up to me and stopped me from going any further.

"Hey Em," I said casually, "what's up?"

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Kabea asked rudely.

I glared. "Is your name Em?" I growled at her. She clenched her fists and glared at me, and Emily rolled her eyed.

"You know very well what's up," Emily said.

I groaned and threw up my arms. "What did I do _now_?" I asked. I was getting really sick and tired of this.

"I saw you drawing in History class," Emily replied, "you have a real talent for drawing realistic people, you know."

"Um, thank you, I think," I said, thoroughly confused as to what this had to do with anything.

"Who were you drawing?" Emily asked.

"I dunno," I said innocently, "I just started doodling, and before I knew it, I was drawing some random face. Why?"

"You mean you weren't drawing anyone specific?" Emily asked. "No one you've seen before? No one you even faintly recognize?"

"Um, no," I said, "what the hell is going on? What's all this about?"

"You mean to tell me that you made up this person too?" Kabea interjected.

"Uh, yeah," I said bluntly, "it was just another random person I made up off the top of my head. So chill out, okay?" I turned to Emily and said, "Now answer my question."

"Nothing's up," Emily replied.

"Of course," I said sarcastically, "you corner and interrogate me for absolutely no reason." I glared at her and added, "How gullible do you think I am? You're a terrible liar when you're not using the mind trick, you know that?"

Emily hung her head and said nothing, and I felt my face turn red with anger.

"Emily," I said as calmly as possible, "if you're going to keep me in the dark all the time, fine. Just don't bother me anymore, okay? Stop interrogating me and acting weird and pretending that nothing is wrong."

"This is all for your own good," Emily responded.

"Oh sure," I said with a roll of my eyes, "ignorance is bliss, ain't it?"

"In some circumstances, yes," Emily said. I huffed in annoyance. I had expected a different answer.

"You're impossible," I said, flicking my hand at her dismissively and walking away. I heard a few Padawans mumble behind my back, but I really couldn't give a shit what they were saying about me at this point. I was tired of those six getting on my case all the time and then not telling me what they were talking about. Emily was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

I headed down the hill and came to a stop by a group of giggling Freshman preppies chewing gum with their mouths open. Even being near _them_ was better than being around those damn Padawans. This whole Jedi thing was starting to turn into a real mess. I thought that the crazy mysterious events would end after Emily had confessed her Jedi nature to me, but the exact opposite was happening. Emily was only giving me more questions that she refused to answer, and quite frankly, I was tired of it. I didn't like this new Emily who was serious all the time and driven by some mysterious "Jedi duty". I just wanted her to go back to the nice, light-hearted, happy-go-lucky Emily I knew before.

However, as I reflected on what Emily had said about her Jedi training, I realized that maybe the Emily I knew before wasn't the real Emily, and that this new Emily was just her acting like her true self. Maybe she was just acting all bubbly around me, and was in reality like this all the time. I hoped that it wasn't true. I had known Emily way too long. She couldn't possibly have been acting all these years. This behavior must have been driven by something serious that she was not telling me. I had a very hard time believing that this was Emily's true nature. It couldn't be her true nature. It just couldn't be.

I spent the next few minutes trying to get my mind off this. I concentrated on watching a group of gothic guys slam empty soda cans against each other's foreheads. They screamed and laughed, and I couldn't help but laugh at their stupidity. Men were so weird.

After about ten minutes, the firefighters and the cop emerged from the building, and the principal gave us the signal to go back inside. Everyone headed back into the building noisily, and I could tell that no one felt like going back to class. I trudged reluctantly to the gymnasium, and when everyone had returned from the fire drill, we resumed our game. I decided to use my concussion excuse and sat out the rest of class. I wasn't in the mood to even pretend that I was playing dodgeball. I had way too many other things on my mind.

I needed to talk to someone about this. Anyone. I needed to let all this junk out of my head before I exploded. The problem was, I couldn't. I had been sworn to secrecy by both Emily and the Jedi Council, and consequently there was no one for me to talk to and get advice from. But I needed to do something. I couldn't continue like this. As I sat out the rest of gym class, I tried to figure out how I could talk to someone without getting in trouble with Emily and the Jedi Council and exposing the Jedi's secret. It may well have been an impossible task, but I needed to try something, for the sake of my sanity.


	18. Car Ride

**Chapter 18**

**Car Ride**

Orchestra was a pain. Despite all the practice, Mr. Fulger still wasn't satisfied with our performance of Minuet. His face was still a dark shade of violet when the bell rang, and we ended up with twelve hours of practice due Monday. I had way too many other things to do this weekend, and I was going to try to lie about how much I practiced by plumping up the times on my practice log. Mr. Fulger might believe me. I would see on Monday.

Miraculously, Orchestra was the one class that wasn't infested with Padawans. I cheered when I saw this, and wished that Caitlyn was there to share in my excitement. Padawans must not play instruments. There was now a good chance that Orchestra would become my favorite class.

I openly rejoiced when the day ended, and bolted out of the practice room and toward my locker. I was finally free from the fetters of school for two days. Even though I had a mountain of homework and a lacrosse game, I was still glad for a break from classes. After everything that had happened, I was in some serious need of R&R.

I was also glad that the day was over because in a few hours I was going to hang out with my friends in my favorite place in town. I was giddy with excitement, and not even the confrontation with Emily during the fire drill could sour my mood now. I relished in my good mood while it lasted.

Not even the sandwich oozing mayonnaise that fell onto my shoulder when I opened my locker that afternoon could spoil my mood. I tossed the sandwich into a nearby trashcan and proceeded to toss the books I needed over the weekend into my backpack. The girl next to me looked ready to be sick, slammed her locker, and walked away. I laughed to myself, threw the rest of my books in my bag and grabbed my lacrosse gear before closing my locker.

I elbowed my way through a crowd of people huddled by the main entrance and stepped out into the courtyard. I almost screamed "FREEDOM!" as I hurried over to the bike racks. People were playing hackie sack in the courtyard and Frisbee on the front lawn, and the principal was yelling at some guys to stop skateboarding on the railings of the courtyard steps. People were lighting up cigarettes as they walked down the driveway, and almost everyone was on the cell phone and/or had headphones stuffed in their ears. It was another typical Friday afternoon at CHS.

I caught a glimpse of Liz rolling down the driveway on a skateboard that was impossibly holding two other goths. She whopped for joy as they swerved to the left and straight toward a granite bench sitting on the lawn. Realizing their peril, they panicked, tipped over the skateboard, and landed in a pile on the grass.

"Hey Lia!" someone called. I turned away from the scene in the grass and looked behind me to find Ann, holding a folded up display board, standing three feet from me and waving.

"Hey," I said, "what's up? What's with the display board?"

"Chemistry project," she said, " 'The Effects of Vitamin A on the Human Body'. Just got it back today."

"Lovely," I said, "so, now that you're the foremost expert on this, tell me, what are the effects of vitamin A on the body?"

"Well," Ann replied, "firstly-"

"It was a just a joke, Ann," I said, holding out my palms and gesturing her to stop, "you know that I couldn't give a damn."

Ann laughed. "Yes, I know," she said with a soft smile. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you what time we were meeting. I know Taylor told us, but I forgot."

"Six," I said.

"What time are we going home?" she asked.

"Dunno," I replied, "I guess whenever we feel like it."

Ann looked nervous and fidgeted with a folded corner of her display board. She looked almost afraid.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's just… I… I'm a little nervous about being out late, that's all." Ann replied almost inaudibly.

"You can leave early if you want," I said, "no one's stopping you."

"I know," said Ann, "I'm just a little nervous, that's all. But I do feel safer around my friends, and especially in such a large group."

"There's nothing to be nervous about," I replied, "this is the most boring town in the universe. Believe me, nothing is going to happen."

Ann looked at the ground and fidgeted with the cardboard more intensely.

"Are you okay?" I asked. She was seriously starting to worry me.

"Ya," she said, "see you later Lia."

She immediately left and took off in a trot down the driveway. I watched her for a while and chewed on my thumbnail absentmindedly. Why in the world was she so worried about being out late? I had been out late plenty of times and not so much as a mouse had ever disturbed me. She looked so frightened, and it made me a little anxious and worried. I looked around for another one of my friends, but saw none. I decided to talk to Katherine about it when I saw her later. Maybe she knew what was wrong and would know a way to help.

When Ann was out of sight, I unlocked my bike and threw my backpack on my back and my lacrosse gear over my shoulder. I held my lacrosse stick in one hand and my handlebars with the other and peddled slowly down the driveway, being careful not to run over the people walking in front of me. Trying to ride a bike with a full load of books and lacrosse equipment was no easy task, but I eventually got the hang of it and biked home.

When I got home, Mom was preparing to leave for work. She worked the evening shift from 5 to 9 most Fridays and often had nighttime meetings. When I opened the kitchen door, I heard her heeled shoes clacking on the hardwood floor in the hallway. She emerged in the kitchen wearing a light blue suit jacket and pants, her black pumps, and holding three file folders.

"Oh there you are," she said, "I have to leave soon, to miss the five O'clock commuter traffic."

"No problem," I said.

"Make yourself a sandwich for dinner," she said, flipping through the papers in one of the folders, "I'll be home a little after I my meetings finish at 11:30."

"I'm going downtown with my friends tonight," I said. "I'll be back by the 11 curfew."

She looked at me fiercely. "You aren't riding your bike home that late, are you?" she asked in an almost panicky voice. I rolled my eyes. What was with people all of a sudden?

"No, don't worry," I sighed, "Emily's mom's giving me a ride there and back."

"Good," Mom said, "I'm not comfortable with you riding your bike that late at night." She grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and gave me a quick kiss goodbye before leaving. I waved as she got in the car and drove off.

I deposited my backpack and lacrosse gear on a wooden bench in the living room where all the bags were normally placed. I hardly ever bothered to put my stuff there, but this afternoon I decided to change my normal routine a bit.

Next to my lacrosse gear lay my mom's red file organizer bag that was stuffed full of stuff for work. Next to that was an empty tote bag that I hardly ever used and a purple purse that I never used that only contained an empty tin of breath mints and some two-year-old receipts. I kicked off my shoes on the rug under the bench with the rest of the shoes. Mom's slippers, two other pairs of high-heeled shoes, and her clogs mingled with my sandals, black boots, and our snow boots that we unpacked in preparation for winter. I took off my zipper sweatshirt and hung it on one of the coat pegs above the bench. Our winter coats, raincoats, my fleece jacket, and mom's wool trench coat hung on the other pegs along with my Star Wars baseball hat that I never wore out of fear for its safety. I looked at it for a moment, took it down, and put it on my head. Feeling a swell of geekish pride, I marched into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. I rummaged around for something decent to drink, but so far only found milk, water, and the remnants of one of Mom's iced coffees. Stuffed into the tiny refrigerator was also some cheese, eggs, veggies, salad dressing, and leftovers. I found a packet of lunchmeat on the shelf with the Tupperware containing leftover casserole and figured that that was going to be tonight's dinner for me. I read the label. Whoopie. Turkey again. Ah, there's nothing I loved more than Friday night turkey sandwiches. I spent most Friday nights with a turkey sandwich, a reclining chair, and whatever was on HBO. Yes, I lived a very exciting life.

After more rummaging, I found an unopened six-pack of small bottles of lemonade. I pulled out the six-pack, grabbed a letter opener out of the drawer next to the stove, and broke open the package.

After I grabbed myself some lemonade, I opened the slider door, and stepped out onto the small patio and half-dead lawn. High wooden fences with leveled off tops surrounded the entire backyard and made me feel like I was in a box. A squirrel scrambled up the large maple tree a little ways away when it saw me, and a couple of birds flew up out of the grass and toward the neighbor's yard not too far away.

I pulled one of the outdoor chairs resting against the house onto the patio. I rested my feet on the patio table, opened my lemonade, and relaxed in the autumn sunlight. The leaves were just beginning to change color, and the sunlight glittered off the foliage. The squirrel, either not seeing me or realizing that I wasn't a threat, returned to the lawn and rummaged around for nuts. He sat up on his hind legs and nibbled on an acorn that had fallen off the neighbor's oak tree and into our yard. I could hear some kids in the yard behind us playing around, but the fence blocked them from view. I sighed and wished that the neighbors weren't so close to us. It felt like I could reach out and touch them sometimes. Emily had it made with her little pseudo-estate over there on Bog Road.

I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my bare arms. I could hear the songbirds singing and the sounds of the highway not too far away. I smiled peacefully and sipped my lemonade, feeling perfectly at peace with myself. Everything was so quiet and calm…

I jumped when I heard the "ba-ling-a-ling" of my cell phone. I put my feet down and dug the phone out of my pocket, wondering who in the world was calling me. Hardly anyone called me. I didn't talk on the phone much, and preferred instant messaging immensely. I certainly wasn't one of those preppie cell phone addicts, and I never text messaged.

I looked at the caller ID and saw the name "Liz" next to the icon of the ringing phone. Why in the world was Liz calling me?

I opened the phone and said "Hello?"

"NUMA NUMA!" Liz screamed, causing me to jump and instinctively hold the receiver away from my ear and cringe. I heard some laughter over the receiver and Liz screamed "NUMA NUMA!" again.

"Liz," I replied, "what the hell are you doing? Why are you calling me?"

"NUMA NUMA LIA!" Liz screamed while laughing hysterically.

"Liz," I commanded, "drink water and eat right now and sober up before tonight. And don't you dare have another energy drink!"

I closed the phone and put my feet back up on the table. The phone rang again, and figuring that it was Liz, I ignored it.

The phone continued to ring, and I finished off my lemonade. After about the fifth call, I slammed the bottle on the table and dug the phone out of my pocket again. I wrenched open the lid, yelled "Liz, STOP CALLING ME! This is getting really annoying!", and slammed the phone shut.

Liz seemed to get the hint, and the phone went silent. I sighed in relief and put my feet back up on the table.

After managing to kill time for about two hours, I saw Mrs. Towne's green minivan pull in the driveway. I zipped up my blue sweatshirt coat and grabbed my phone and wallet. As I was locking the door, Emily's mom opened the driver's side door and leaned out.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yep," I said, heading down the driveway. A passenger on the inside opened the door, and I climbed in.

My heart sank when I found the Padawans sitting with Emily in the minivan. I kind of hoped that they would find their own rides. Why did Emily have to invite them on this little outing anyway? This wasn't fair.

I looked around, and found that the only seat available was next to Emily and in the midst of the Padawans. Trying to hide my discomfort, I sat down and strapped myself in. I prayed to god that this would be a short ride, because once we got downtown, I planned to ignore their very existence and hang out with Liz and the others. I was very upset at Emily for inviting them to come with us.

As Emily's mom backed out of the driveway, I felt the van walls beginning to close in around me. The Padawans did nothing but stare at me, and I felt like a goldfish in a bowl. I hated being in a car with them, and vowed never to let Emily talk me into this again. The close confinement with them was suffocating, and my brain was screaming for this ride to end.

Luckily, Emily's mom insisted on engaging in small talk with me, which broke the awkward silence that was hanging heavily in the back seat.

"How's lacrosse working out for you?" Emily's mom asked.

"Hell on earth," I replied, "I wish I'd never joined."

"Oh really?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "Why is that?"

"My coach thinks he's the drill sergeant from hell," I said.

"Oh come on," Mrs. Towne retorted, "it can't be that bad."

"It is," Emily chimed in, "I've seen him. He's nuts."

"Well that's too bad," Mrs. Towne said, "you were excited about joining lacrosse too. Oh well, maybe you can find another sport."

"I don't think so," I said, "I'm not the athletic type."

"No?" Emily's mom asked. "Not softball? Field hockey? Soccer?"

I laughed. "I'd just make a fool out of myself again," I replied. "If there's one thing that this lacrosse season has taught me it's that I'm hopeless at sports."

"What about track?" Mrs. Towne asked. "Emily tells me that you're a decent runner."

"I've thought about it," I said, "but even though I'm decent at running, I don't really like it. I don't think I'd want to do it more often than I have to. It's so boring."

"You could fence," Emily said glaring at me.

"Ya," I said glaring back, "let me know when CHS gets the money to start a fencing team."

"You can fence?" Mrs. Towne asked.

"She's very good with a plastic lightsaber," Emily said.

"Oh wow," Mrs. Towne said, "have you considered joining a fencing team somewhere? I think there's a private one in town that offers lessons and equipment."

"No," I said, "we don't have the money for fencing. It's an expensive sport, and quite frankly, I don't want a bunch of jocks to ruin lightsaber battles for me."

"Oh you don't know that that will be the case," Emily's mom said, "and yes, I have heard that fencing is expensive. Still, that would be a cool thing to do. Do you want to fence Emily?"

I laughed silently. _Yeah right_, I said under my breath,_ like she needs fencing lessons. She could probably kick the best fencer's ass with the Force and those lightsaber combat skills of hers_.

Oh how I wished that I could see a real live Jedi fight with a lightsaber. It would be awesome to see a real lightsaber and a duel in real life, especially if Emily were one of the participants. It would be so awesome!

"No thanks Mom," Emily said.

"You should do a sport Em," Mrs. Towne said. "It would get you out of the house more. All you do lately is hang around in your room."

"Yeah Em," I teased, "let Coach Schlater toughen you up."

"No thanks," Emily said nervously, "and I don't have time for sports. I'm busy enough as it is."

There was a bit of silence afterward. Mrs. Towne turned a corner and came immediately to a long line of traffic backed up at the traffic light ahead.

"Oh damn," she said, "we've hit the tail end of the commuter traffic."

I felt sick. This was not happening. I was NOT going to be stuck in this car with them for an even LONGER time! Oh why, oh WHY did this town have to have so much traffic?

The light turned green, then yellow, and then red, and we didn't move so much as an inch. Emily's mom sat back in her seat and said, "well kids, get comfortable, we're going to be here for a while."

I was ready to cry in frustration. My brain was screaming "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I swore I was going to suffocate in here. I needed to get out of here!

Emily's mom continued to be chatty, and I engaged in conversation with her to pass the time.

"How are you doing in math this year?" Mrs. Towne asked. "Is it working out any better for you?"

"Nope," I answered. "It's hopeless."

"Oh come now," Mrs. Towne said, "nothing is totally hopeless. I'm sure sooner or later it will click. Just try your best, and I'm sure you'll do okay."

"I wish," I said.

"How about Chemistry?" Emily's mom asked.

"Almost as bad as math," I said.

"How about U.S. History? I hear you have a new book to read for that."

"Barely getting a C," I replied.

Mrs. Towne gave me a funny look. "Are you doing well in anything?" she asked.

"I have no idea what I'm getting in Orchestra," I said, "and art's going well, or at least I think so. Depends on how I do on that charcoal drawing."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Kabea chimed in, "she was very realistic, maybe a little too realistic."

"Oh stop," I said, "it wasn't that good and you know it."

"But still too realistic for my liking," Kabea said.

"And English don't forget," Emily said, hastily changing the subject to avoid an argument. "I think everyone's doing well in that class. It's a total joke."

"We'll know for certain if we ever get any grades back," I grumbled.

"Your English teacher sounds like a total flake," Mrs. Towne said in disgust. I laughed at her bluntness. "I'm not looking forward to meeting her at the parent-teacher conferences coming up," she continued.

My stomach did a somersault and I nearly screamed out loud. I almost choked on the air in my throat. I had completely forgotten about those stupid things. About mid semester, the school always hosted optional parent-teacher conferences. Many parents didn't go, but as luck had it, my mother _always_ went. And every semester I got yelled at for my grades. And for about two weeks every semester after those goddamn conferences, Mom would breathe down my neck and watch my every move to make sure I was doing my homework, studying, and getting good grades. And every semester I didn't do any better. Then it would start all over again the next semester. This had been going on since sixth grade, and it wouldn't stop until graduation.

I slumped in my seat. It seemed like I was doing worse in more of my classes than before, and the ensuing lectures and torture were going to be at their worst this semester. I leaned my head on the back of the seat and wished that I would just die.

We moved about three more feet, but remained stuck at the same light. A chorus of horns erupted around us. Emily's mom groaned loudly and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.

"This is ridiculous!" she groaned. "All this to go a few miles! That's it! Just a few miles people!"

"It would have been faster to take a bike," I groaned.

"These roads are so inadequate for the amount of traffic they get," Mrs. Towne continued. "And look at this! No one is taking a turn on red! Come on people! Move it! You can take a turn on red here!"

Over the next ten minutes, we moved a grand total of another six feet, and I was ready to scream. I couldn't take this anymore. All the Padawans did was stare at me. I was going to lose it. No question about it. If I didn't get out of there soon, I was going to go ballistic. I hoped that they could read my emotions and knew my frustration. Maybe that would get them to stop staring.

"How's your mom been?" Mrs. Towne asked, continuing the small talk.

"She's good," I said.

"That's good," Mrs. Towne replied. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to her in close to a year now. Is she still working for the corporation?"

"Yep," I said, "she got a promotion about three months ago and is working more than ever now."

"Well good for her," Mrs. Towne said, "but it must be lonely for you."

I shrugged. "I don't mind," I said, "I have plenty of other things to amuse myself with."

"Is she working right now?" Mrs. Towne asked.

"Yep," I replied, "she works most Fridays."

"Oh," Mrs. Towne said, "and what do you normally do?"

"Just hang around the house," I said.

"Oh that's no way to spend a Friday night," she said. "Friday nights are meant for going out, having fun, flirting, and meeting new people. All Emily ever does on Friday nights anymore is hang around the house too. You two should get out of the house and go do something together. This is supposed to be the time of your lives! Get out and live a little! You only live this time once, and believe me, there's plenty of time for boring routines and hanging around the house later on in life. Oh come on, you people had plenty of time to go, and now were stuck here for another light cycle!"

After she yelled at the cars ahead of her for a while the car went quiet again. I considered what she had said. I always wanted to get out and have more fun. As much of a total mistake Liz was turning out to be, she sure had more fun than most of us. Maybe I would try living like her once in a while. It might be fun.

"I don't have time to 'have fun'," Emily grumbled quietly to herself, "I have too many other things to do. I have school, homework, all this training, and my mission. I never get to hang out anymore."

I wondered what this mission that Emily and the other Jedi constantly referred to was all about. What could possibly be so important to the Jedi on Earth? Earth was so technologically primitive and boring by comparison. What was so important here, of all places? What in the world was this mission of Emily's? I wanted to find out. I wanted to know more about the real Jedi on Earth than Emily was telling me. Most of all, I wanted to know where I fit into all this. After all, there must be a reason the Padawans were constantly following me, and I was going to find out what it was no matter what it took.

The awkward silence fell again. I could feel the eyes of every Jedi boring into me, and it made my insides churn in anxiety. This was too much. A bead of sweat dripped down my temple, and I gripped the seat and went tense. I had no idea why these Padawans got to me so much, but they did, and it was too much for me to handle.

I needed to get out of here. Now.


	19. Night Life

**Chapter 19**

**Night Life**

Well, we finally made it downtown, and, miraculously, I didn't go ballistic. There was absolutely no parking downtown, so Mrs. Towne had to pull over and drop us off outside the Main Street Mall. I was ripping my seatbelt off before the van even came to a stop, and bolted out as soon as Mrs. Towne put the van in park. I quickly thanked Emily's mom for the ride before running into the mall entrance, thankful for some freedom and open space.

Main Street was buzzing with activity, and the mall tower, the second tallest tower in town, was bustling with teenagers. There were about twenty people standing outside the four sets of double doors smoking, and it felt like I was going to choke when I walked by. I covered my mouth and nose and hurried through the main entrance.

Hanging out by a bench about five feet from the door was the mass of dark clothing that I recognized as Liz and her friends. Liz peered between two goths in trench coats, saw me, and waved.

"Lia!" she called. "We're over here!"

Emily and the Padawans caught up to me. Emily glared at me for not waiting for her, and I shrugged her off and went to meet up with Liz and the others.

When I reached the bench, I was startled at the number of people that were going to hang out with us. I counted heads, and there were twenty-two people in our group. Most were people I knew, but there were six I hadn't met before.

First there was Liz, wearing a black trench coat and matching ski hat. She was still acting hyper, but nowhere near to the same extreme as earlier. On her right was Katherine, wearing a nice denim coat and a pair of khakis and sporting a brown leather shoulder bag. To her right was Ann, wearing a blue summer dress, and Janet, wearing a Pokemon T-shirt and gothic pants. Behind them, Arleen was fixing the bows and fake flowers sewn to her red knitted hat while Caitlyn was yelling at someone on her cell phone. Lita, wearing a Pirates of the Caribbean T-shirt and her hiking boots, was barely visible behind them.

"What took you so long?" Amara, wearing a pair of high black suede boots, asked. "It's well after six. We were beginning to think you weren't coming."

"We hit traffic," Emily said. "We got here as soon as we could."

"Well, maybe now we can get out of this mall," one of Liz's gothic friends said with a shudder. "Too many people in here."

"Relax Richie," Liz said to him, "it's just a little crowd. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Richie's eyes shifted around, and he turned his head down to look at his black boots. His thin, boney face was pierced in multiple places including both eyebrows, his nose, and below his bottom lip. His shady appearance reminded me of a weasel, and he gave even me the creeps. I could see the Padawans shifting nervously out of the corner of my eye.

"Before we leave," Taylor said, "there's someone I'd like you to meet." She gestured to the heavy white girl with black hair next to her. "Everyone," Taylor said, "this is my girlfriend Michelle."

"Hello," Michelle said in a high-pitched voice.

"So this is the famous Taylor's girlfriend," Katherine said, "it's very nice to meet you."

"I don't recognize you," Liz said. "Do you go to CHS?"

"Just because you don't recognize her doesn't mean she doesn't go to Central," a tall guy with long, brown dreadlocks said to Liz. "You certainly can't claim to know everyone there."

"Oh shaddup Patrick," Liz said, punching his arm. "I _can_ claim to know most of the 'freaks and geeks', and she certainly isn't one of the preppies or jocks. Am I right?"

"Right," Michelle said, "I go to Eastman high."

"Then I feel obligated to hate you," I said, "my lacrosse team plays yours this Saturday, and they're big rivals." I laughed. "I'm just kidding," I continued, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Hey while we're on introductions," Liz said, "I'd like you all to meet my other friends. This little one here is Richie." She elbowed the kid with the shifty eyes, who was shorter than me and probably stood at five feet. He glared at her, mumbled something inaudible, and took a couple of steps away. "This is Patrick," she said pointing to the guy with dreads. He waved and smiled. "This is Rob," Liz said, patting another tall and robust guy in a black trench coat on the arm. He gave us a toothy smile and rustled his black hair nervously. "And this is Bridget," Liz continued, gesturing to the girl with the purple pigtailed braids I saw earlier at lunch, "and finally, this is Becca."

A girl with blue-streaked blonde hair, a black and white corset, and a red velvet blazer glared at her. "Oh thanks Liz," she said, "I feel _real_ special being last."

"You're welcome," Liz said. "Now guys, these are my friends from my lunch table."

She introduced us, and Becca and Bridget smiled at the Padawans and whispered to each other. I rolled my eyes and hoped that they weren't just like Liz in the hot guy department.

Caitlyn slammed her phone shut and wailed in anger. We looked at her quizzically, and Arleen asked what was wrong.

"I have to leave at nine," Caitlyn grumbled, "some stupid church thing first thing in the morning. As if I didn't get enough church on Sundays, I now apparently have been volunteered to help the out on Saturdays too. This fucking sucks."

"Wait, does that mean that we'll have to leave too?" Arleen asked.

"If you want to get a ride from my mom," Caitlyn replied, "then you and Lita have to leave with me."

"Shit," Arleen said.

"We'll miss you," Liz said, sticking out her lower lip and looking like a sad puppy.

"Well since I have to leave early," Caitlyn said, "let's get the hell out of here and make the most of our evening."

"Finally," Richie said quietly.

"Wait a sec," Becca said, "I wanted to take a quick stop in the gothic store if you don't mind." Richie groaned and paced around.

"Where is it?" Katherine asked.

"Third floor," Liz said, "hey, I know, we can take the ESCALATOR!"

"Yeah!" Becca screamed. "Come on guys! Let's go on the ESCALATOR!"

Liz and her gothic friends ran down the hall, and caught up in their excitement, we trotted after them. Richie, still mumbling to himself, brought up the rear.

Crowds of preppies carrying designer and preppie teenage clothing store bags parted as we hurried past. Several made snide remarks, and a few laughed mockingly at us. One preppie, chewing gum with her mouth open, said directly to me, "what, is this the like freak parade or something? Hehehehe." I flicked her off as I continued on.

We reached the escalator, and Liz, Becca, Rob, Bridget, and Patrick jumped on. The preppies already on it walked up or down a couple of steps and gave them plenty of space. The rest of us got on the escalator normally. As we rode up to the third floor, the five of them screamed, whooped, and threw us their arms as if they were on a roller coaster. Everyone was staring at them, but they were in their own little world.

When we got to the top, they were screaming as if they had just had the time of their lives. "Let's do that again!" Bridget cried, jumping up and down.

They whooped and ran to the escalator going down. Caitlyn rolled her eyes and looked at her watch impatiently. They cheered as they went down, and then cheered as they went back up. They repeated this process again, and were about to do it a fourth time before Caitlyn yelled at them and reminded them that she had to leave soon. Defeated and upset, they trudged on to the gothic store.

The gothic clothing store was conveniently located next to an overwhelmingly pink store full of jewelry and fuzzy things that couldn't possibly be meant for any girl outside their preteen years. Inside, Britney Spears was playing over the speakers, and several tiny girls that looked to be about thirteen were trying on headbands and spraying cheap perfume all over their wrists. They were giggling uncontrollably, and seemed to be acting worse than even the most hard-core CHS preppie. I guessed that preppies toned it down with age, as surprising as that hypothesis sounds.

The gothic store, meanwhile, was blaring Korn. The people inside were our age and older, and most of them were wearing at least one article of black clothing. They browsed the merchandise calmly, and a few were trying things on. Bridget, Becca and Liz were the most hyper people in there, and the other goths glared at them as they bounced around the store.

"Can you guys make this quick?" Caitlyn asked impatiently. When it was apparent that they didn't hear her, she groaned in annoyance and went over to the clothing racks. I meandered my way through the store, breezing by the racks of black clothing, the cases of body rings, and the shelves of colorful lingerie. I made my way to the T-shirt section, and looked up in awe at the monstrous display of T-shirts. Most of them had band logos, but to my delight, there was a row of Star Wars T-shirts. Six panels depicted six different T-shirt designs: Four were of Darth Vader, one was of Yoda, and one was the Episode IV movie poster. I checked the price tags, and gagged when I saw that they were twenty-five dollars each. What were these things made of, cotton coated with gold? I bet I could get these shirts much cheaper at the comic book store on Pulitzer Ave. I hadn't been there in over a week and a half, and wondered if Bob missed me.

After about ten minutes, when Becca, Bridget and Liz started playing with some colorful thongs in the lingerie section, it became apparent that they were not going to buy anything. Seeing this, Caitlyn yelled at them and ushered them, kicking and screaming, out of the store.

"You can play in there any time you want," Caitlyn said, "the mall's not going anywhere any time soon. This night, however, is."

Reluctantly, they followed her and Richie out of the store. They whooped and hollered all the way down the escalator, and when we got off, we quickly ushered them out of the mall before they decided to ride the escalator again.

The night air was filled with city lights. Half of the windows in the skyscraper were lit up, and I waved at it, knowing my mom was in there somewhere working hard as usual.

The traffic was still heavy but manageable, and people were able to cross the street without having to squeeze in between cars. A couple of taxis drove by, and one young woman in healed boots carrying a Prada shopping bag hailed one of them. A couple of men in black suits passed us by, and they looked as if they had just gotten out of work and were rejoicing that it was finally the weekend. Some groups teenage fashion-savvy girls and a few casual shoppers in normal clothing passed by. There was an incredible diversity of people on the street, and all the hustle and bustle of the town heightened my excitement.

The shops on Main Street were brightly lit passed by a café and saw that is was jammed full of people. Every table was taken, and incoming customers were glaring at the people sitting in them, hoping that their mere stares would get them to relinquish their seats. Even the counters where people stood to drink their coffee were full of people chatting, reading, and talking on the phone. The workers behind the counters prepared food and drink as fast as they could, but were having difficulty keeping up with the constant demand. A waiter served some people sitting on the tables outside their coffee and pastries. I saw Nichole standing at one of the inside counters facing the street and waved, but she was reading a book and didn't see me.

Further down on the other side of the street, I saw a group of finely dressed men and women heading to the theater and opera house at the end of Main Street. Directly across the street, people flocked to the fast food joint, whose gigantic sign on the roof glowed brightly. As we continued down Main Street, we came across the bookstore, which was mobbed as usual. In the windows, I could see it was crowded with shoppers, people reading, and people hanging out in the café within. Arleen and Katherine considered stopping in, but the goths ushered them by.

We came to a one-way side street labeled Stevenson Ave. and turned down it. It was considerably darker than Main Street, but still well lit. On the right was a bar, a Greek pizza place, and a couple of realtors. On the left was a deli, a boarded-up shop, a closed shoe repair shop, and the psychic studio. Giddy, Becca ran over to the studio's door but found it locked. She moaned and looked at their hours posted on their door.

"What idiot doesn't stay open on Friday night?" she grumbled as she returned to the group. "I wanted to get my palms read."

"I can tell you your future right now," Bridget said, snatching her hand and looking at her palm. "Lesse, you will get laid before you die. The end."

She closed Becca's hand and laughed, and Becca glared at her. Rob and Patrick laughed, and I saw Kabea roll her eyes in the background.

As we passed the bar, Liz moaned about how she wasn't old enough to have alcohol. Disinterested in this street, we took a right and ended up on a dark, narrow street called Orca Drive. It consisted entirely of brick-walled apartments that towered four stories into the sky. We quickly headed down the street, taking care to avoid the piles of garbage stacked next to each doorstep, took another right, and ended back up on Main Street.

We crossed the street and went down another side street labeled Thompson Drive. One of the shops down this street contained shiny glass animals and other small sculptures, and Arleen insisted on stopping in. Forced to oblige by her obsession with shiny things, we followed.

The place reeked of potpourri, but all the pretty things were a delightful distraction from the smell. Liz and Becca oogled over a bowl of shiny blue glass beads, and the guys looked thoroughly bored. Arleen was freaking out over all the cute and shiny glass animals, and was having trouble deciding which one to buy. I went to a case of pewter figurines and saw one that looked like a Bantha. I got excited at first, but after close examination, realized that it was just an elephant.

Arleen decided to settle on a cat figurine, and after she checked out, we left the store. We took a left and ended up on the street with Zapo's Market, the grocery store with the unique foreign foods. It was large for its location on a tiny side street, and it and its parking lot took up most of the left side of Brook Drive. Taylor and Michelle stopped in to grab a bite to eat while the rest of us waited outside. After five more minutes, they emerged munching on pears, and we continued on.

We spent a great deal of time on the next side street we visited, Douglas Way. Rob and Patrick, giddy with excitement, hurried into the vintage records store, dragging all of us with them.

The place was covered from floor to ceiling with records. They covered every square inch of the walls, and there were huge bins of them on the floor. Awed by the amount of old music, we took our time in there and browsed the bins. Even Caitlyn, who had before been antsy to get moving, slowed down to admire the walls of records.

I pawed through a bin labeled "P-Q", and found a lot of Pink Floyd records. To my disappointment, most of them looked very beat up, and they all had a "used" sticker in the corner. They must have had ten copies of "The Wall" and five of "Dark Side of the Moon". I looked up on the walls, and found a couple of Pink Floyd records up there as well. At first I wondered why they weren't in the bin, until I looked closely and saw "New" stickers in the corner. I looked around and found that all the records on the wall were new. It was incredible.

"Dude!" Rob exclaimed. "Check out all the Led Zeppelins in here!"

"Dude," Patrick called back, "I just found some Beatles records!"

"Hey look!" Becca cried, pulling a record out of another bin. "Jimmy Hendrix! Sweet!"

"I found Eric Clapton," Bridget said.

"George Harrison, sweet!" Liz squealed.

"Hey look, Robert Plant," Caitlyn said, "this place really has everything."

The store clerk, a young guy that looked like a relic of the sixties with his multi-colored knitted hat and rose-colored glasses, stepped out from behind the counter. Thoroughly pleased at our enthusiasm, he joined Rob and Patrick.

"Most of these Zeppelins are in pretty good shape," he said, fingering through the "L" bin. He pulled out a copy of "Houses of the Holy" and said, "this one's used, but it only has a couple of scratches in 'The Rain Song' and one in 'No Quarter'. They're barely noticeable, so it's almost like new."

He took the record out of its sleeve and showed it to Rob. He pointed to a couple spots on the surface and said, "see, right there."

"They're tiny," Rob said.

"Yes," the clerk said, "it's a very good deal."

"How much?" Rob asked.

I continued to browse the bins, but I didn't recognize most of the artists. I admired the records on the wall. Some of them looked almost mint, and I doubted that they had ever been used. They had probably been bought, played maybe once, and had sat on a shelf until they made their way to this store.

"We have a record player too if you need one," the clerk said.

"I have one at home thanks," Rob replied, "I bought it two summers ago and have started a record collection ever since."

"Well," the clerk said, "you know what no record collection should be without? A Beatles record."

"I have a couple," Rob said, "and Pat here was just looking at some."

"Excellent," said the clerk. They made their way over to the "B" bins and joined Patrick. I meandered over to the front, and found a glass case containing a few records. Inside was a pristine copy of Led Zeppelin IV with a sign next to it that said "mint". Among the other mint records in the case were "Love" by The Beatles, and Hendrix's "Electric Ladyland". I looked at the price tags, and almost choked when I saw how much the store wanted for them. I wasn't thinking of buying any, but still, it was a lot.

Rob ended up buying two Led Zeppelin records and three Beatles, Patrick got a Jimmy Hendrix album, and Becca got a George Harrison record. As we were walking out, the store clerk waved and said, "Come again sometime, man!"

Across the street was a pizza place, a drug store and pharmacy, another bar, and an art supplies store. Caitlyn led us all in there, and we browsed the racks of art supplies. There was an entire section of the store that was dedicated to charcoal. On the wall was a sample charcoal drawing of a woman's head. I admired the skills of the artist. The lines were so soft, and she looked so real. She put my drawing of the Sith Lady to shame. I wished I were as talented as this artist.

The store had every kind of drawing and painting equipment one could possibly imagine. One floor was dedicated entirely to mats and frames, and another floor contained clay and sculpting supplies. Caitlyn would have spent hours in there if we weren't pressed for time. She bought a pack of colored pencils and we moved on.

We made our way back to Main Street and found that it was even more crowded than before. A group of college kids driving by in an SUV screamed and waved beer bottles at the people on the sidewalks. Two cars behind them, a limo drove silently by, no doubt heading toward the theater.

My stomach began to rumble. The turkey sandwich I had earlier was clearly not enough, and I decided to drag the group into the bakery and patisserie on Main Street. To my surprise, the line at the counter stretched out of the store and a couple of feet down the sidewalk. I was hesitant to get in line, but once I saw how fast the people behind the counter were serving their customers, I decided that the wait wouldn't be too long and got in line. Lita, Janet, Katherine, Becca, and Liz, who were also hungry, got in line with me, while the others milled around the sidewalk outside the bakery and neighboring law school building. Much to my annoyance, Emily and the Padawans got in line and stuck close to me.

They had been sticking close to me all night. It seemed no matter how fast I walked, how much I zigzagged, or how deeply I integrated myself into the crowd of my other friends and the goths, Emily and the Padawans were right next to me. Every time we went into a store, they would stay within three feet of me while one or two stood by the entrance. No matter where I went, they were there next to me like a bunch of bodyguards. It was annoying. Why couldn't they find someone else to latch onto? Liz and her gothic friends were the ones who were more likely to cause trouble. They're behavior only proved my suspicions that they were keeping an eye on me for some reason or another. All I wanted to know was what the hell was going on. Emily was especially annoying because of all her lies and secrecy, which were ineffective because it was obvious that they were following me. Perhaps they were here to keep me quiet about the whole Jedi thing? That had to be it. I could see no other reason for them to follow me like this.

The Padawans, however, must have been feeling a little crowded too. Becca and Bridget had noticed the guys' good looks, and they and Liz kept walking close to them and drooling all over them. Lita, Katherine, and Amara managed to keep Liz and her friends at bay, but they too were visibly fawning over the Padawans all night. Whenever one was close to a Padawan, they would stare at him dreamily. However, the disgrace of Liz's behavior yesterday kept them in line, and they were careful not to make the Padawans feel too uncomfortable. Maybe their obsession with them would eventually fade away and they would all go back to normal.

I tried to ignore the Padawans and started chatting with Katherine. Ann had been very jumpy this evening and stuck very close to us. She still looked extremely worried, especially when we were out on the street. I hoped that Katherine could shed some light on all this. Maybe she knew what was wrong with Ann.

"I noticed it too," Katherine said, "and no, I don't know what's wrong with her. Yesterday she asked how many people would be in our group, and expressed concern about being out so late."

"Do you even have a guess as to what's wrong?" I asked.

"My best guess is just ordinary fear. This is a large town, some of these side streets are sketchy, and it is getting late. I guess any ordinary person would be nervous."

"Are you?" I asked.

"A little," she said, "but safety in numbers is a proven fact. I feel more comfortable with all these people. I think Ann is too, but she's still a little more afraid than what would be considered normal."

"Do you think she'd be willing to talk about it?" I asked.

"Nah," Katherine replied, "Ann is very shy, and wouldn't be very open to a conversation like that. It's very hard to talk about your fears, and she wouldn't want us to worry about her. I think it's best just to wait and let her open up to us if and when she wants to."

Katherine had a point. I had never thought about that before. I always assumed that everyone was like me and liked to talk to someone about their problems. Katherine was so good with people, and could understand everyone. If she weren't set on becoming a singer, she would make a great counselor.

Despite the efforts of the workers inside, the line was moving slowly. We waited outside for another five minutes, and only moved about a foot. There were only four people between Lita and the door, and the line stretched well behind us. Richie was hiding in the doorway of the law school building, Rob and Patrick were leaning against the wall of the bakery looking like thugs, and Bridget was flirting with some young guy passing by, who looked desperate to get away. Caitlyn was on the phone again, and Arleen disappeared into a shop next to the law school. I had no idea where Taylor and Michelle ran off to, and Amara and Ann went to a go get a cup of coffee at the coffee shop on the nearby corner.

The crowd on the street suddenly swelled with well-dressed people, and I guessed that a show must have just gotten out. The people in line scooted against the building to let the mob of people pass. My eyes scanned the crowd, and I was amazed at how many people attended these shows.

Every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night, the theater and opera house was packed with people who came from all over to see the shows that were put on. The evening shows were very expensive, and those who attended them took the opportunity to dress their best and show off their wealth, prestige, and sophistication. They went to the theater not so much to see a show but more to be seen.

One such crowd passed by us, talking merrily to each other and heading to their limos or the fancy restaurants. Katherine looked at them longingly.

"Someday," she said half to herself and half to us, " I'll be in one of those shows. One of these days, these people will be talking about me like that."

A woman, who had obviously been drinking before the show, sauntered down the street, laughing and clinging to her boyfriend's arm. They passed by me, and I could smell the wine on her breath. Behind her, a group of men and women were having an intense conversation about the show they'd just seen walked by.

"I was disappointed in the actor who played Javert," I heard one of the women say as they breezed by. "His voice was way too high. I prefer a tenor in his role. What do you think, Chris?"

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation, because behind them was an even larger group of people. As I scanned the crowd, I could have sworn I saw someone dressed in a black cloak and hood walk by. The person was very tall and well built, and looked to be a man. He walked in the center of the crowd and was mostly hidden by the people around him. I peered through the crowd and tried to get a better view of him, and to my surprise, he turned to look at me. His dark hood obscured most of his face in shadow, but what little I did see was very frightening. Either the streetlight was playing tricks on my eyes, or his skin was a deep red color. I didn't get a good enough look to tell for certain, but his skin looked red to me. The streetlight must have been reflecting in his eyes too, because they looked yellow. I could only stand there speechless as he glared at me with his yellow eyes, turned away, and disappeared down the street as soon as he had come.

_What the hell was that?_ I thought to myself. I must have been seeing things. There was no way on earth that he could have red skin and yellow eyes.

He looked very evil in his cloak and hood, and I wondered who or what he was and where he had come from. I pondered over this for a moment, and then decided to dismiss it as nothing. It must have been some guy in a hooded coat, and the streetlight must have made his skin and eyes look weird. That must have been it.

I looked over at the others and wondered if any of them had seen him. Lita, Janet, and Katherine were chatting and ignoring the world around them, and Becca and Liz were doodling on each other's hands in sharpie and looked oblivious to everything else. Emily and the Padawans, however, were looking in the direction the hooded guy had gone. They clearly had seen him, because they looked very concerned and were talking to each other in hushed tones. Kabea glared down the street but looked afraid, and Emily bit her nails.

"Shit. This is not good." I heard Emily say.

What the hell was going on?


End file.
